


Heatstroke

by Narcis_The_Monk



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Gen, I'll add more as I go, If you want something tagged that I missed just let me know, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Other, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, i'll bump the rating when its time, just taking time with this one, self destructive behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-05-28 21:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15058403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narcis_The_Monk/pseuds/Narcis_The_Monk
Summary: John Seed led a luxurious life that he crashed and burned in a spectacular scandal. He ran home, to the family ranch, after being assured by his brother he just needed to take time away from the temptations of complete self destruction. Now he's taking his time healing, just like they all are, with the help of new friends and family he's never really gotten the chance to know.





	1. Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for the Seeds, be forgiving. Started as just amusing myself, then it developed into an accidental slow burn kinda thing. I'll add as I write more, but I'm not sure how this one will end yet. This is an AU where their lives didn't go to full shit and there is no doomsday cult or any such thing. I'm mostly just trying to get a feel for writing them, as well as redemption arcs/healing journey in a way. I'll be editing chapters as I reread them and catch more things. Thanks so much for taking a look.  
> (The summary will change as I think of how to better phrase it. ^^;; )

The first time he saw her, he thought maybe it was the heatstroke he was clearly suffering from. That he was hallucinating.

Well, okay maybe he wasn’t that bad off, but fuck it was hot in the Montana sun. The horse he rode was the only company he kept currently and the radio strapped to his hip stayed silent which meant his brothers weren’t trying to reach him. He’d taken a ride, probably past where the land of their ranch ended. He wasn’t sure yet. He hadn’t been helping with the ranch for most of his life like Jacob or even Faith. Joseph was a man of God, and while he could appreciate his words of calming wisdom he always felt a little judged. But that was in his head, and that was part of the reason he’d come home.

The drugs and alcohol and hard living caught up to him, and a compromising situation lost him his law practice. At the encouragement of Joseph—it was always Joseph—he came home to get away from temptation. He left his expensive apartment with its tasteful décor and all the dirty secrets it held behind and moved to the Seed family ranch. “Fled is more like it.” He hissed quietly, entirely to himself. Sometimes he had to chastise himself outside of his head, a shift in the routine.

The horse below him nickered and he patted its neck as a reflex. “Don’t you start with me. I get to fucking be mad if I want.” He responded to the animal before taking a deep breath. Then he urged the animal forward again to find a place where he could sit down, read a book, and smoke a damn cigarette without Jacob barking orders or Faith bugging him with senseless questions, or worse, intrusive ones. He wondered where she got her weed from, and how she hid it from Joseph before making himself laugh. He had drawn himself a line, and he didn’t want to run right the fuck over it until he was ready.

He took in his surroundings, blue eyes sweeping over the mountains and the trees spotted with fields and small farms. The landscape out here really was breathtaking. Worth leaving everything behind, and despite the small annoyances of his siblings that had him grumbling to a horse with an attitude, he knew he was thankful. Anger was just how he processed everything before he cooled off and could think clearly. Most of the time. Sometimes it lingered. He entered the tree line, on a path that had been marked with a hand made sign towards…some kind of water. Considering it just said “WATER” that meant the options could be endless. He figured water and shade sounded good. Maybe lose a couple layers to help with cooling off. He still hadn’t adjusted to sweating so much.He admittedly hadn’t spent much time outside that he could remember before coming back. That was his biggest mistake. He snorted a small self deprecating laugh. _Yeah, John. That was the big mistake. One confession at a time._

He listened for water and heard the soft movement of the life giving source in question. Probably a stream, or a creek. Really what was the difference at this point. The path led them along a path, that looked like it was maintained fairly well he noted, and it came to a little clearing. The water was a quick moving creek, that looked like it went to about your ankles, but the current broke off and left a patch of slower waters. It seemed that the widest part of the creek had been alter, someone using stones to build a small dammed area that you could wade into without getting swept immediately to your ass. “Oh thank God.”

He dropped himself out of the saddle and led the horse over so it could drink too. His hands were undoing buttons quickly, pulling off his shirt and vest, folding them carefully and settling them into the bag tied to the saddle. He dropped down to a crouch, cupping water in his hands to dump water over his head and he sighed at the feeling of cool that relaxed him. He really underestimated the heat and overestimated his tolerance for it. _’Cocky.’_ Jacob’s voice rumbled in his head and he smirked. Yeah he was.

“When did my life become a purgatory of adjusting.” He asked no one in particular, even if the question was technically aimed towards himself. It was mindless blather really. He let the horse graze the small area as he settled down under a tree, book in his lap and cigarette already lit and balanced between his lips. He’d given up a lot of things, and this was one he demanded to keep. It was his own vice, the only thing he was willing to cling to because he had to cling to something he could control.

A little time had passed and he got lost in the words on the pages, not minding his smoking as he collected the spent butts beside him to pocket later, when he heard it. Footsteps. He pulled himself from the story he’d lost himself in with a struggle to glance around. When he couldn’t notice anyone immediately he huffed and pushed himself up and collected his things. The horse lifted its head to look at the path they’d come from earlier.

A woman stepped through, pushing the bushes aside with gentle fingers and quiet apologies. Was she apologizing to bushes? Or was he just losing his mind with this damned heat. Maybe she wasn’t even there. The small gasp of when she spotted the horse made him question himself again. More evidence leading towards her existence.

“Well hello there, sweet one. What are you doing here? My you look lovely in the dappled light. Wish I brought my camera…” The words spoken were clearly for the animal as she hadn’t noticed him yet. But the horse had definitely noticed her and stretched its head towards her offered open palms of affection and she smiled brightly as she pet it.“Sweet one, sweet one…” She crooned and he blinked as he looked her over.

She wasn’t dressed for a hike, so she must be either camping or living fairly close by. She wore a long skirt in layers of red that swished and swayed as she moved. A black tank top showed her arms which held the tan of someone who worked outside. Brown hair braided back, with brilliant blooms expertly placed to brighten up like bronze. She carried a backpack that she had set down to pay attention to the animal that was worn and patched. She moved for it now, opening it before she glanced up and finally her gentle green gaze settled on him and his breath stilled in his chest.

Unlike him, she didn’t feel surprised to see someone. He guessed that made sense. She’d found a horse out by itself, so either it was lost or its rider close by. She gave a gentle hum as she waved to him before digging through her backpack for what ended up being an apple. She wiped it off and offered it to the horse, who munched it happily before finally turning back to the grass it’d been toying with before. “What’s his name?” Man he hadn’t planned for people, and his obvious lack of control suddenly set him on edge.

“I’m not…actually sure. I haven’t learned all their names yet.” He answered honestly, closing his book now without marking it. Fuck that, more important things to do. _Like find control._

“I encourage you to learn his name soon. A close bond means a loyal friend. And it all starts with a name.” She responded, spreading her arms in a manner that he’d seen many times as his brother practiced sermons at home. His eyes fell on the cord she held wrapped around her left hand. He could see the glittering of red beads and the end the hung from her wrist was tipped in a few charms but none of them were a cross.

“Oh yeah? Then what’s yours?” He asked as he moved to a slow stand. He had settled on the truth that she was there, and not a figment of his imagination. Maybe he could be charming. Charming was easy to sway someone to your side. It was almost like being cocky, but repelled outward. Here he’d gone out into the middle of no where to get away, and he ran into someone. Of all the dumb luck.

“Calista Greene. Call me Callie.” She stated as she moved over and held out the unadorned hand at her side for him to shake. “And now I must ask you your name.”

“John. John Seed.” He answered as he took her hand, and he looked down at it and the tattoos trailing down from her arms. He shook it as he let his eyes traced up the coiling lines of plants and words and symbols he didn’t recognize. “I…like your work.” He said as he let her hand go and gestured to her tattoos. _Good job John. That was charming. Exactly what he meant to do. Own it._

“Thank you. I like yours too.” She responded and he looked down and remembered he’d stripped himself of anything on his torso Instead of being embarrassed though, he grinned widely at her. He could feel the arrogance creeping through him as she looked him over in turn.

“It’s hot,” was all he offered her and she laughed. _Okay, funny then. Be funny. That was natural._

“You can fucking say that again. So your Faith’s brother. She was telling me her brother came home recently. Didn’t think I’d get to meet you out on a impromptu walkabout.”

“I wasn’t expecting to meet anybody at all,” He blurted out, and grinned again, trying to own that. _He'd meant to blurt that out._ She smiled a bit and he relaxed again. Who was he trying to impress here, her or his own ego? Why would he be trying to impress her? He slammed his thoughts still in their tracks and he clears his throat. “You said—you said you know Faith? How’s that? Don’t think I’ve ever heard her mention you.” _What is with the start and stop. Words are his thing, he's good at talking. He was a fucking lawyer._

“We’re friends, yeah. We take long walks, she visits me at my cabin, helps me with my garden…” Callie let her sentence trail off as she looked him over again, carefully searching him for something. She seemed to find whatever it was she was looking for when it clicked into place himself.

“You sell her weed.” He stated, straight forward with the accusation.

“I sell nothing. No money is exchanged. If you grow from the land, you’re meant to share your crops with those you love.” She bounced back her answer and he couldn’t stop the teasing words and that damned arrogant tone from creeping into his voice.

“Were you a lawyer too, because I hate to tell you this…but that is not entirely legal.”

“Unless you recorded me, I would have to say prove it. But if you be nice to me instead, I’d be more inclined to share with you too.” She laughed as he backtracked quickly, lifting his hands in innocence.

“Don’t get me wrong. I must have given you the impression that I care what my sister does.”

“Actually, you’ve given me no impression at all. You smile a lot, but I’m not sure if it reaches all the way to your eyes just yet. But such things, the deep down things, take time to heal. But I will stop prying in favor of asking you what you’re doing all the way out here? Your land ends back at the lake.” She was quick to state facts, and quick to diverge to another topic point. He liked that, he told himself. _He liked_ having to keep up in a conversation where _someone_ wasn’t fitting a sermon into something or blathering mindless questions. Though now he wondered if Faith said more than he thought. He should listen next time.

He realized they’d fallen into silence, and he cleared his throat again as he smiled and aimed for charming one more time. “I wanted some peace and quiet, instead I found pleasant company. I’m not sure if that is entirely a win quite yet. Let’s talk a while, let me think it over.”

“I’d say it’s a win from the view alone. But come back to my cabin. I was just coming to get water. Thought I might take a moment, breathe in the life. But I’ll take yours instead.” She stated simply as she moved to her bag. He hadn’t noticed the bucket earlier, but then again he hadn’t been paying much attention past her being. She stopped quickly, frowning as she retrieved the pail and headed to the water. “Your company. Not your life. Hmm…better phrasing could have been done there.” And just like that he lost control as she proved herself just as nervous as he was. They both held shitty cards right now. But now it was an even playing field, and he could build anything from the ground up.

“I hadn’t even noticed.” He stated, laughing quietly. “You could have tricked me out of my soul in a minute. I’d say you were the devil but I don’t think someone as heavenly as you could be quite that…”

“Mischievous? Lots of Gods that preach kindness and peace also encourage a little trickery on the side. They just have different levels that they consider appropriate. And the Devil is just as much a god as Loki or Dionysus, if only for the fact that just as many people invoke his name, or rather many names.” She answered as she removed her boots and socks, lifting her skirt and tying it up in a manner that meant she’d done this before. She waded past the still water to the flowing, leaning down and scooping up a bucket before she turned and headed back to him. She worried her bottom lip as she pondered, and he caught the motion and it made another smile bloom across his lips. This one was softer. “Though I don’t suppose you were looking for a sermon, I can keep going if you want.”

“Don’t matter to me, as long as you believe what you’re saying.”

“Is that how you handle Joseph?”

“Now why would I need to handle him?”

“Because Father Seed…” She started as she finally turned back to wade to the shore. He watched her lower her skirt again and he remembered to put his shirt and vest back on. He turned back to Callie as she gathered her things and caught the grin she was giving him. “Father Seed, is frankly, really fuckin long winded.”

Laughter bubbled up his throat as he retrieved the reins to his horse and offered her the reins in favor of the bucket, and he continued on alongside her. “Yeah. Yeah he really is.”

“He’s calming though. His words wrap around you and bring you comfort you didn’t know words could give you. He’s a very good preacher. We don’t quite see eye to eye, but we get along fairly well. I think Faith is more open minded, it’s why we click. Jacob just kinda grunts, and I keep guessing until he nods. We’ve never had the chance to talk really, though I suspect its become a game of guess-the-phrase.” She continued as she led the way along a different path, and he could see a small cabin a short ways in the distance. She nodded towards it. “Home sweet home.”

He was teasing again, before he could stop it. It helped that she laughed, that she didn’t take it personally. _Old habits die hard._ “So…cabin in the woods. You planning to murder me?”

“Oh of course not. One shouldn’t shit where they eat. That’s just bad hygiene.” She said, managing to keep a poker pace he felt a brief flash of envy for.

“…good Lord.” Again, the words left before they formed in his head, before he’d given his consent. Fuck he missed drugs, they made the thoughts slower. Or just not matter.

“Is that the sound of you realizing we’ll get on splendidly or that you’ve made a grave mistake in taking my metaphorical hand down a path of chaos?” She called, _Callie called_ , he reminded himself trying to etch the name in.

“I’ve just never met someone that talks as much as me.” He offered, grinning in triumph as she laughed again. He felt that need to impress again, and he tried to down play it. But every laugh, every smile, stroked his ego and he knew he would have eventually gravitated towards her for that fact alone.

“But I have so much to say. And sometimes I like the sound of my own voice.” Callie answered and he grinned. He realized they were at her home when she led the horse to a small corral that probably only existed to house guest horses. She led him up the steps, and instructed him to leave the pail beside the door outside, mumbling about it having to stay outside. He did as he was told, cleaning his shoes off – _like a decent human being unlike some people_ \-- before he stepped inside.

“At least you’re honest,” John called as he looked around, immediately taking in his surroundings. The lawyer in him screamed at him to snoop without snooping, to gather as many clues about her from her already revealed surroundings as quickly as he could. He fought off the urge until he considered the fact that he could use it to his advantage. To be charming, maybe even funny, but at the very least in control. And he did like control.

“I try my very best.” A disembodied voice called back from another room and he took a moment to spin slowly around and just look.

And what he learned was chaos did in fact manifest in physical forms and this home was one. The dining room was also a living room, but it seemed that was done mostly to make rooms for shelves that housed many a thing. Candles, chunks of gemstones, jars marked with an elegant curling script he could make out the names of herbs on. Books as well as journals were littered across a coffee table and there seemed to be a table dedicated to clutter.

He moved a little closer, eyes focusing on the table of clutter to realize it wasn’t clutter. It was a shrine, but he wasn’t sure as to what. Stones both polished and obviously collected from the creek or one like it, incense lit and smoking in different places throughout the odd collections of branches, feathers, flowers both dried and fresh cut. There was a small gargoyle statue on the corner that made him quirk a brow as he tried to decipher it. His head kept spinning so he moved on to look at the books spread out instead.

The contents of the books didn’t help either. There were pictures of different herbs, with arrows pointing to notes that were scrawled tightly into the margins and he felt mildly offended at the defacing of the pages and outraged that he’d never done it before himself. The journals held a lot of sketches and unfinished drawings of trees and plants and stones. Some were colored, clearly showing more time put into them. He stopped to take those in with a hum and a tight smile he was trying to hide from himself. Everything he unearthed raised more questions than it answered and he was glad when she returned to the room. Even more glad to see the glasses of sweet tea.

“Now I’m just assuming that you’ll like sweet tea because Faith does, but I was raised to always treat a guest when they come to visit. I don’t have any food ready yet or I’d feed you too.” Callie called as she crossed the room. He took the offered glass, the feeling of almost-electricity that sparked between them as his fingers brushed hers. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not, but he hadn't been expecting it.

“This is more than enough.” He responded, trying for a cool exterior. He didn’t need to jerk away like his reflexes were screaming at him to.

“Don’t lie to me.” It was her who was teasing now, and he responded without a single thought.

“How are you friends with Faith?” The words were out and off his tongue. He didn’t know if Faith still had that funny little thing about lying, he hadn’t seen her in years. _’Be kinder to you family John. We only want to love you.’_ Joseph’s words echoed through his head and he squeezed his eyes shut for a minute.

“She doesn’t lie to me. And I get her high.” That got him to laughing again and he slowed to a stop and took a long drink, stopping his need to keep flinging dirt on them when they were trying to pull him out of the hole he’d dug himself into.

“Fair enough.” He admitted to her, _to his new friend._

He stayed for a while, talking until the radio at his hip crackled to life. He couldn’t believe how much time had passed just talking with her. He craved attention and she gave it to him freely, and it was like breathing fresh air in big gulping gasps after being starved of oxygen for so long; heady and sweet and overwhelming.

 **“John where the fuck are you?”** Jacob’s voice sounded even gruffer over the radio and John honestly hadn’t thought that possible. Before he could answer the radio he’d pulled from his waist, Callie had reached over and snatched it. She didn’t take it exactly, just pushed the button down as she leaned in to speak with her fingertips feathering over his and there was no jerk reaction now. He had adjusted.

“Good evening Lone Wolf. I’m afraid he’s been side tracked by a talkative hermit.” She kept her voice low, almost mimicking the eldest Seed brother with a grin across her face. They were met with a long silence before his voice came through again.

 **“Huh. Alright then, bring him home. Faith’s demands.”** He barked the orders and for a second he felt anger rise up in him. At being talked about as if he were a child, at the way he just ordered them about as if they were ranch hands and nothing else. But her bubbling laughter stopped him and his eyes fell on hers. He watched them crinkle up with her smile and her green gaze seemed to glow with each rolling giggle.

 _“Come see me, honeychild. It’s been too long.”_ His sister’s voice joined them now and he could almost picture Jacob’s eye roll and he couldn’t help but laugh with Callie now, a low chuckle from deep in his chest.

“I saw you yesterday.” Callie argued, finally taking the radio from him after dragging her fingers along his and he tried to follow the touch. Okay, maybe he did like it.

 _“That was a very long time ago already.”_ Faith whined now, pleading with her lip puckered out probably. She was always one for theatrics.

 **“Faith get off the damn radio.”** Jacob argued now, and her response was brief and dismissive and it sparked a brief sibling argument, the kind that went in circles and never progressed.

 _“No.”_ **“Get off the—”** _“No.”_ **“Faith I said—”** _“Noooooo.”_

“Hey kids, I’ll bring him back soon.” Callie cut in, stopping the relentless cycle quickly. He was still grinning widely since she took the radio completely from his hand.

 _“Yay! I’ll see you soon,”_ came the dismissal and Faith made it clear she left the conversation.

From Jacob’s end just came a deep sigh and a grunt before silence fell over them again. 

“Well, I guess it’s time to get you home.” She finally stated, handing back his radio. He finished up his tea and got his things. He retrieved his horse, and climbed back up into the saddle. Then he helped her on up after him, and he let her tell him where to go on their way back between constantly changed subjects he had had to jump to keep up with at moments. She had a quick wit and a fast tongue, and the way she held onto him made his back feel a warmth that penetrated deeper than the sun could ever hope to.

They reached his ranch and they’d barely been there for a minute before his siblings were swooping in. Jacob needed his help to go feed cattle and Faith was already swooping in and carrying away Callie like a fluttering swarm of butterflies. He had no idea where his sister could be taking off with the sudden center of his attention span, and some part of him knew when they got back she would have left already. He shrugged and climbed into the truck with Jacob, teasing him immediately about the radio call earlier. It stopped when Jacob threatened to make him walk home and John knew he would.

They got back a couple hours later and as he had predicted, she was gone. He almost moped around, no one questioning it for either fear of him being an asshole or some kind of twisted guilt that they’d dragged him away from someone he’d felt some semblance of a connection to. Or maybe they just really hadn’t noticed. He hoped and prayed it was that one.

He fell asleep that night thinking about her smile, about the warmth of her energy, and he made a decision before he succumbed to slumber. He had to know more about her.


	2. Space Out

The next time he spoke to her, he made sure he was in control of the situation. He made sure he had his advantages plotted out, made mental notes of topics he could try bringing up. Too bad he hadn’t thought to use any of those hard won strategies. 

Regardless, gathering that information had been the planned first step. The next day, he’d chosen to follow Faith around and help her with chores. She’d taken to the idea quickly, always keen on family time and talking in general. And she had been itching for some time to catch up. Which meant talk about what happened, but he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Another line in the dirt he wasn’t willing to drag himself past.

Instead he let her ask him her little questions, the niggling ones he loathed usually. Until she bribed him with a joint and he figured if he had to push some of his boundaries, he may as well push others he was keen to. He had kept himself from diving into anything headfirst for a while now, he deserved a break. He followed her giggling form, as she flitted through the halls and along to the garden. If she were anyone else he would have jerked his hand back, but she took his hand and tugged him along a path through the vegetables to the other side of the shed where she kept her tools. Behind it she kept a small flower garden and she sat down on a bench there as she let his hand go and smiled at him, and he could see the gears turning behind her eyes in a crystal blue-gray gaze of concentration.

“So I’ve been asking a lot of questions dear brother, but you have been holding some back for a while haven’t you?” Faith challenged and he felt himself rise up to his full height as he huffed his chest.

“What do you mean?” He asked, trying to gauge her reaction but she just set to giggling melodiously as she pulled a joint out of the pocket on the front of her sundress followed by a lighter. 

“You look like a stepped on toady frog, Johnny. All bloated up and tryin’ to be scary.” She teased, drawling out his name and he frowned at the nickname. She changed her tune quickly, as well as the subject, making his head spin. “Ask me about Callie, I know you want to.”

“Who says—shut up and light the damn joint.” He demanded, before letting her see his own calculations turning on what to say. They managed to stay in a blessed silence for at least fifteen minutes as she lit the joint and they passed it between the two of them. He inhaled the smoke greedily, deep into his lungs for as long as he could and just relishing in the feeling of his mind slowing down. He gave a genuine smile as he let the smoke slip past his teeth with a low hum and out along the breeze. “Fine, I wanna ask about Callie.”

“I knew it. Just some unspoken thing hanging in the air, waiting for you to reach out and touch it.” She replied, lifting her hands to mime touching something only she could see in her hands. Again he wished he was that relaxed. “Besides, she asked about you as well.”

“She did? What did she ask—what did you tell her? What’d she say?” He sputtered for a second before he went for a cigarette. Faith held the pack out to him in her open palms with a soft smile. When had she managed to grab those?

“Calm down, brother. She asked about your interests, your personality, the same things you were probably planning on asking me about her. She asked about your energy, and things that make you smile, and what your favorite meal was. I’m guessing she didn’t get to feed you. You really should let her, she’s an amazing cook.” She started on point, trailing off into side thoughts shortly into her answer.

“Fuckin focus Faith, do you have that in you?” He snapped with a venom that shook him, and he finally seized the cigarettes and lit one. He made sure to put them in his pocket this time, never breaking eye contact with her. He relented and grumbled a sound of apology, but her smile never faded.

“As much as you do, I just choose to walk my own path not by its choice. Too boring.” She replied after a long thirty seconds, before she gave more flitting giggles and looked past him at the flowers.

“Holy shit, do you never make sense.” The observation was meant in only partial jest. Sometimes he really did have no idea what she was talking about.

“You’re thinking too much. Let it go at its pace. I’ll ask her to come to dinner sometime this week. You gather your thoughts and your questions and then just…ask her to take a walk. It won’t matter where, just as long as you talk.” She answered finally, leaning past him to pluck red blossom from its plant and held it out to him. “And as long as you _listen._ ” She finally stressed, smiling sweetly at him. “You hear but—”

“But I don’t listen, I know.” John huffed again, before he turned his eyes to the flower and he took it finally. She grinned at him now, secrets threatening to spill from her sunshine sweet smile. He gave the slightest nod and they broke free, cascading wildly in a disorganized mess.

“She doesn’t have a favorite color but she looks best in warmer colors. She likes being outside and she has a fondness for animals. She gardens and she draws, and she loves to create. She’s kind, grounded, good at bringing your head back down. And you just need to be you.” She stopped as abruptly as she began, grinning wildly at him before standing up and heading back to the house, a lazy skip of taunting. “If you want any more information, I would keep up Joooooohnny.”

“Don’t fucking call me Johnny!” He immediately argued before he stood and followed her quickly. They did need to get moving, quit wasting time. The short break and the joint helped lightened his head, and he felt like he could probably talk freer than he had in weeks. He met her halfway in the garden where she’d already retrieved baskets and handed him one. He took it and followed her along. “Why’s she living in a cabin in the woods?”

A smirk bubbled to her lips and he almost expected it at this point. “Cause she likes nature and solitude and feeding the wildlife.” She responded before she simply instructed ‘tomatoes’. He moved to work on picking those that were ripe as he took in the information slowly.

“I suppose that makes sense.” He responded, and Faith looked to him with a twinkle in her eyes as she teased him lightly.

“Does it? Does her environment suit her energy?” She asked and he considered it. He’d never thought people had energy, as she called it. But maybe they did, maybe everyone else wasn’t constantly lying about their own as much as he did. As much as Faith used to. She started speaking again, and he continued on down the line and he let her words wash over him like he let Joseph’s. He found they felt sweeter than the preacher’s sometimes did. “When you see her in your mind can you see it? She’s green and earth and life that grows no matter her environment. She glows with warmth and kindness that eases all wounds. Does that make sense?”

He humored her and closed his eyes briefly, picturing Callie. And if he focused he could almost see it, green tendrils dripping and floating from her, around her, like the vines tattooed down her arms. He had felt warmth at her attention, no judgement. She laughed when he thought— _hoped_ —she would. The only judgement he’d received was his own self loathing creeping through. He opened his eyes and looked to his little sister before nodding a bit and conceding his belief in the moment. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

She hummed a quiet tune he could just hear trickling through the air as she watched him carefully. She was making sure he wasn’t teasing her, and he tried to make sure he looked as sincere as he could. He could feign it easily, he was a good actor after all, but he wanted to mean it this time. He must have succeeded as a new gentle smile spread across her face and she looked so happy he was glad he’d floundered through that. “Now that we see eye to eye, let’s talk about Callie.”

His sister had always been intuitive when it came to people, always so observant and open to people that they were drawn to her. And she loved that attention, loved that energy as she’d called it. When they were kids, she lied a lot. But all of them had learned to manipulate others in their own lives and their own ways and forgiveness meant moving on and making amends. He had to remember that they were all healing, some slower than others, as she confided in him all the truths she’d been gathering since they’d met. She told him she was sharing because she wanted him to make friends, to learn to open up, and here he’d been planning to use this as some kind of upper hand.

But then again, as she told him how Calista Greene checked in on their family fairly often, he slowly forgot his original intent in the inquiry. She often came with gifts or food, and she made sure to talk to everyone. She would spend time conversing with Jacob in a manner only the two of them could really understand, or listened to Joseph as he practiced sermons on the porch with praise always ready on her tongue when he would turn to seek her critique in silence. Faith even told him of her own time with the woman, how she’d helped her to understand how the lies, even the little ones, became chains in their own tiny ways until they built themselves into a prison. How together they’d learned to let go of their grudges, of their hatred, of all the deceit stored in their hearts about themselves and the world. She spoke like it was a religious experience, but then again Faith treated several things like miracles in their own ways.

She trailed off into a comfortable silence before she gave him a wicked grin that only a sister can give. Especially when the sister in question is primed with taunts meant in half hearted mockery. “You’ll get along, I’m sure. But I’m curious as to how you want to get along?”

His brain froze, slamming on the brakes until his train of thought derailed spectacularly. “What?” 

“Do you like her? Come on, do you have a cruuuuuush on her?” She drew out the word like they were in middle school, whispering about crushes they didn’t really understand yet.

“What? I just met her Faith, for fuck’s sake. How could I have a crush on her?” He pushed the metaphorical train carts back up, got them moving again as he caught up. He ignored her giggling, before she waved her hand idly as her own white flag of surrender.

Her words were soft, meant to be soothing and genuine. “Some people just…click.”

“Alright, click aside, I don’t know. That’s the truth. But I guess if I want to know more about her and I’m willing to suffer through the teasing of my batshit little sister—oh and _understand_ her—then I guess that’s a start.” He answered, smiling a bit at her again. “Seriously, Faith, we are not middle-schoolers who need to gossip about crushes and who likes who.”

“That is a start. Thank you, John. For humoring me and listening to me. I know you’re not that keen to speak from your heart yet. You spent a lot of time in your shell and you need a reprieve in order to adjust. I love you, big brother.” She answered, ignoring him as she smiled past him at something in her thoughts. She looked back to him and hummed again.

He faltered again at the affection, circling it in his mind as he decided if he could afford that weakness. He settled on accepting the confession of their reforming bond. “Yeah, no problem. I…love you too, Faith.”

“Now lets finish this up so we can go patch the hole in the barn roof. It’s not very big so it’ll be quick, and it’ll be one less thing for Jacob to worry about.” She chimed in before she turned to collect the rest of the ripe vegetables in a speed he hadn’t known her capable of. But then again, she always had her own chores and tasks completed by the time he got home with the brother she just mentioned.

“You’re gonna patch a roof in a dress?” He asked, trying to speed up before he followed her into the house as she sat her basket down on the counter. He placed his beside hers as she bubbled with laughter again and shook her head before moving to tie her hair back now.

“I’m going to change silly. But you’re helping me too. You fly planes, so you won’t be nervous about the height.” She informed him as if both halves of that last sentence were things he already knew.

“Who’s nervous about the height?” He inquired as she turned to run up the stairs to her room. The question made her halt and turn to him on her heel as she leaned forward in feigned innocence.

She lifted a finger to her lips, shushing him softly before giggling. “You can’t tell them I told you, but both our older brothers are uneasy with heights. Maybe not scared, but it definitely sets them on edge. So I do the high up things they complain about.”

“You’re busier in a day than I thought you were.” He admitted before she turned and rushed up the stairs and away.

He moved to go change smoke a cigarette on the porch when he heard her call to him again. “That’s because you never--”

“--listened, got it.” He barked back and she laughed loudly enough that he heard her and he rolled his eyes and waited for her. 

They finished up their chores, and they talked most of the day. The only thing they left til the last was the barn roof. He didn’t find her questions as overbearing as time went on and he found a sort of bliss in that acceptance he felt there. He wondered how long it would last. At some point she slipped off and radioed someone, and she came back to inform him that Callie was coming for dinner tomorrow night as she had already been planning on the visit. Then she smiled after a second and winked.

“She said don’t be afraid to give her a shout. She’s always listening to her radio, if you don’t feel like riding into the melting point.” He laughed at her words, almost hearing the woman in question’s voice saying them. 

He had less time to prepare than he thought he did, but that was okay. He was in the lead here, she’d asked _him_ to contact her. And he knew he just might. There was a power behind a radio. He didn’t have to worry about hiding his face, just his tone of voice. It’d be easier, and maybe let him open up past the mask eventually. But he expected that to take a while, really. He was broken, that’s what they’d said. 

He stood on the porch as he slipped into his thoughts, fresh cigarette to his lips. He couldn’t remember the exact words or phrases or diagnoses given to him when he went to rehab. But he knew it all meant broken. It all meant he had to finally stop trying to live every day as his last and he had to stop his worse habit. His habit with ‘yes’. Anything handed to him, yes. Drinks, joints, pills, needles—he took it all, he said yes, and he had been greedy. He’d also been lazy, putting off the work he knew needed done on himself. Instead he’d just took and took and tried to drown it all. 

The first time he ever actively meant to turn his inner turmoil into a physical manifestation was when he took a mirror and took a tattoo gun to himself and scrawled the word SLOTH across his chest in jagged letters that constantly reminded him how strung out he’d been as he cussed and hissed statements of the most self deprecating things he could summon forth. He lifted his hand to the word, now crossed out. A frown creased his lips as he realized how comforting it felt to slip into that darkness where everything was bad and he knew how to handle it. He took a deep drag before he lowered his hand away with the cigarette held delicately between his fingers

“John. Johnny boy…come home. You’re okay.” Faith’s sudden voice startled him, shattering the darkness and it fell away. And then the world was too bright, too loud, and he clenched his hands. He had forgotten the cigarette he’d lit and held and crushed the bright hot cherry out into his hand. He hissed a sound that was low and seething as he slipped back inside, back into the cool and the quiet. He opened his hand finally, looking down at the burn with almost questioning eyes. _Why did he hurt?_

He heard something and his gaze jumped back up to Faith slowly closing in on him, her arms held out at her sides as nonthreatening as she could manage with her palms open and facing him. With the bright light streaming through the doorway she looked almost holy and he felt a stab of something. Jealousy? Resentment that she found salvation while he’d been forced to find comfort in self destruction? No, no, it wasn’t that. She wasn’t the one he resented, had no ties to the destruction that ripped him from his brothers. He took a deep breath of relief as she moved forward, out of the light and out of the train of thought it was bringing forth.

“Faith…” The name fell heavy from his lips and she nodded before he shook his head and something snapped back into place. He was back and he looked to her again. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Got lost.” He’d lost his ability to lie right now as he watched her hands stretch closer to his own and he met her halfway. She looked the burn over and hummed a bit. 

“It’s not bad. Wrap some gauze around it and go lay down.” She advised as she held his hands between her own, her every movement still as she watched his face like they were frozen in time.

“What, no. I said I’d help you.” His tone reflected the outrage that she thought he couldn’t keep working right on through this. _She thought he was weak._ He bit back the thought and shushed that voice again. She didn’t deserve to have that reflected towards her.

“John you were standing there just staring off at something I couldn’t see for ten minutes.” She whispered quietly to him, and he could see the worry peaking through her eyes as she tilted her head at him. If he did anything right now, he’d give away his hand in a moment. Especially when it came to her. Regardless of that plea for control, words slipped out into the air between them. 

“Really? God damn.” The tone of confusion rang so loudly through them that he visibly winced.

Faith gave a smile and tried to lighten the mood. “Don’t let Joseph hear you say that.” The words were meant in jest, an attempt to make him laugh but instead the statement was the final push over into that wrathful side of himself he kept buried.

“No offense, but fuck Joseph right now.” He could feel the poison as it dripped down his chin as he spat the words out. He felt like he was choking as he swallowed more filth that was threatening to spew forth. He nodded finally, closing his eyes. “Okay, yeah. I need to go lay down.”

“Go lay down. I’ll get you when you need to get up.” He could hear the tender tone, and one beneath it that sounded like guilt. She’d given him weed, been intrusive to him all day, even teasing him more than usual. Some part of her felt that she was responsible for this and his insides churned rough at the thought. 

“Hey…you didn’t do anything. Just…got to thinking. I’m remembering things I was trying to forget. And I am gonna go lay down because I feel like I have the worst hangover but I’m still high so it makes for screaming everything with a twist of dizzy.” He told her, looking a bit sheepish but he hoped he just looked like shit. When he glanced up her face was warm once more, relieved even.

“Okay John. I’ll make sure it stays very quiet.” She gave him that same shushing motion before she twirled around and flitted off like a manic hummingbird. He turned and headed to his room.

He stumbled through the door, immediately moving to close the blinds and the curtains in an attempt to seal all of the light beyond the boundaries of his domain. He only succeeded when he ripped the flat sheet free from his bed and draped it over the curtain rod. He hummed and stripped himself of his shirt and his boots, debating before he pulled off his pants and climbed under the quilt still on the bed like a burrowing creature. 

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he dreamt of hazy memories of pain and drowning and darkness. The nightmares clutched and clawed at him as he fought to free himself of chains and finally broke out only to fall back in. But when there weren’t nightmares, there was deep sleep that drowned out everything in a blessed embrace of comfort. A crackling sound of static could be heard occasionally and it would make him question the sleep, question if he needed to return to the waking world. But he never made the move to try so he kept on sleeping.

Eventually he awoke, prying his eyes open to stare at the darkened ceiling that meant it had to be dark out now. There was no faint glow through his barricade anymore. He heard that crackling again and he turned his head to see the radio sitting on his night stand.

A voice crackled to life finally and he hummed quietly. _“Hey Seed siblings, come in.”_ Sound was no longer painful and he reached for the radio. The voice was familiar but he couldn’t place it until he pushed the button and her name sprang off his tongue and danced through the frequencies.

“Callie.” He whispered, before clearing his throat and trying again. “Callie, hey. Everything okay out there in the woods?”

_“John? You sound so sluggish…no, yeah, I’m fine. Did I wake you up?”_ Her tone was immediately concerned, caring. It made his cheeks glow with warm feelings and he gave another low hum.

“No, you’re fine. What did you want?” He asked again, suddenly desperate for her voice that was helping him pull back out of whatever hell he just crawled through.

_“Mostly someone to talk to, really. Just a sudden urge to grab the radio.”_ She responded, and he could hear the tone of her voice. It hit something deep in him, it felt familiar. Loneliness—and it called to him.

“Well I’m here. As far as I know I ain’t needed yet. What’s your number?” He asked, scrawling down the number she gave him for her own frequency on the pad beside his bed. Good thing because the moment it was time for him to look at the radio and change channels he’d forgotten it. He laughed at himself as he looked at the paper for a long moment as he prepared himself. He got up and redressed before he picked up the radio to summon her voice through the speakers again. “Hey, I’m here. Again.”

_“Hey, thanks. I know this out of nowhere but I just…something came over me and I knew I needed to hear someone else’s voice on the end of the line.”_ She started and paused, looking for words. She sounded quieter when she finished her sentence.

“And here I am, right on time.” He tried to make sure that cocky smile could be heard as he held his hands out in a gesture to himself he knew she couldn’t see. 

_“I’d have to agree really. What about you? Did you say yes to talking because you needed to?”_ He could hear her smile, hear the hope that maybe she wasn’t alone. But he couldn’t give that to her. He still wanted to hide his wounds, lick them in private where he could pick at them and bleed them again whenever he should so choose to.

“Oh I’ve got lots I need to talk about, but I don’t believe that is your job. I’ll unload that baggage when the time comes and not a day before.” He responded, and he was relieved when laughter came through. The tinny sound the speakers gave it didn’t do it justice.

_“You are a stubborn one, aren’t you?”_ She chided but he felt no blades in it, no barbs hidden throughout the flowers meant to prick him or cut him open. Just kind jesting, no judgement. What was it about her voice that was intoxicating to that part of his brain that craves the kindness she hands out?

“Only when I have something I believe in down to the deepest fibers of my being, I can promise you that.” He answered again, settling down on his bed again and leaning back against the headboard.

_“Well what else do you believe in, John Seed?”_ She asked and it felt like holy water cleansing him now, rising from the river with newly opened eyes. He thought hard on an answer that she would appreciate, before Faith’s reminder to be himself echoed through his head. He wasn’t sure who _himself_ was now, so he told her as much.

“I’m not sure anymore. That’s why I’m in the middle of fuckin Montana, constantly surprised when I wake up and I don’t hate it.” He kept the radio close, his voice lowered so he didn’t feel like he was shouting through the house. He felt like that action made this almost their shared secret, locked away between the two of them.

_“The land here calls to souls that seek refuge from heartache, all drawn here for their own reasons. I hope you find the solace you seek.”_ She answered, voiced lowered as well now. Maybe she sensed his need for privacy, or maybe she also found comfort in the strange intimacy of hushed voices and quiet conversations. _“But that aside, it is pretty damn boring at times. But I always just thought everything got a little boring before it became exciting again.”_

He chuckled, low and deep, and he made sure she could hear it. “I’ve never looked at it like that. I suppose that puts that into perspective. You know, in a way I didn’t know I needed.” 

_“I always love being a breath of fresh air in a muggy room. How are you feeling?”_ There was no push, just a simple question. He didn’t want to spill out everything that had happened over the radio frequencies anyone could listen in on if they wanted to. So he summarized.

“Like horse shit that got dragged through the corral on a boot just to get rubbed off on the nearest fence post.” He grumbled into the radio, and her voice came back in the sound of bells in the breeze as she laughed.

_“Sounds rough from the incredible visual I was just given.”_ If he closed is eyes, he could almost picture her leaning in and the words leaving her lips as those tendrils of green coiled off her.

“You can fucking say that again.” He quoted her from yesterday and they slid into comfortable conversation once more. 

Time flew by as they talked, and he found the radio helped him feel a little more at ease because she couldn’t see him to watch his reactions. She couldn’t read him, and that gave him an advantage because she couldn’t see how clingy he could be. When he heard Faith calling him softly through his door he gave a growl of discontentment at being cut short his time with her.

_“I’ll see you tomorrow night John. If you wanna talk before then, I’ll be here.”_ She soothed him and he smiled faintly.

“You promise?” He asked before he could stop himself. The small inhale she gave froze him still before she hummed quietly.

_“Promise.”_ And with that, they said their goodbyes and he retreated back downstairs to see what he needed to do.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.


	3. Crossed Wires

The next day was spent mostly with Jacob. He’d chosen the hard labor in favor of avoiding his thoughts for as long as he could. They got up around five in the morning, and Jacob had let him drag his ass a little bit. He suspected his instance yesterday had been spoken of before Faith had retrieved him, and he did his best not to hold it against her. Instead, he took a small amount of comfort in the little window of leniency his eldest brother gave him.

Honestly, he’s had a little wiggle room with the grumpy Seed for most of his life. His oldest brother had done his best when they were younger to protect him from the worst of it, but when they got split up as kids he no longer had anyone to protect him and he’d been weak. He felt some kind of guilt or grief from Jacob and he’s never really been able to place it, so maybe he felt he was the reason their world fell apart. Hell, they probably all thought they were at fault. The only free from those chains was Faith, as she had been one of Joseph’s many sisters as he was cycled through families. When she’d had no where to turn, Joseph opened his arms to claim her as family. She’d been the third Seed to come to the ranch, even changing her name legally.

But since the very moment he got back, Jacob had been there…hovering. He wouldn’t acknowledge it, even if John had thought to bring it up but he hovered. Checking to make sure he ate, that he was steady, that he was sure he felt up to working, always challenging him to learn more of the chores but never pushing. But the same man would then bark orders to their youngest sibling, or dismiss Joseph’s words with any number of excuses. He’d found it maddening at first, thinking the other was babying him again. But he’d proven time and time again that it wasn’t pity, that it was just their strange bond that let him be more merciful. 

So in turn, John was relentless. He teased him, poking the figurative bear every chance he got, until he poked back. He got more banter from Jacob that didn’t revolve around feelings or thoughts or _memories god forbid._ It was the perfect break he always needed and despite the words themselves they never meant what they said. Always ending in an unspoken truce that neither was to hold the other against anything they used. 

And such interactions also made any moment Jacob felt the need to give John advice all the more important to him. Like today, out checking the fence after repairing a post that was getting wobbly. He held the post while Jacob worked, looking around them. After a minute he looked back to see his brother done and watching him with as an inquisitive expression as he could ever wear; eyebrows furrowed and expression blank, but his eyes looked him over like a wolf searching for a weak point before he gave a wide grin, bearing his teeth past his thick beard in a manner that might have frightened anyone else. Instead it just made the shorter man bark out a laugh.

“What the fuck’s got you grinning like the cat that ate the canary?” John asked before the other shook his head and checked the post and he gave a grin before he turned stand then smirk down at him.

“You’re all squirrelly today, twitching and bouncing—just itching to run.” Jacob said it like what it was; a challenge. Daring him to argue with what they both knew to be true. Joke’s on him, John Seed was in fact prideful enough to deny it still.

“I am not! I’m just feeling well rested.” John gave the denial that was expected of him and the other shook with low grumbling chuckles before he stripped his work gloves from his large scarred hands with a grunt of dismissal as he fished around in his pockets. He was most likely looking for his own cigarettes but John beat him to the punchline. He was always quick to offer to share when it came to bad habits.

The taller eyed the pack that was open and extended to him. He took one before he ran the other hand through his hair. “Well that’s good, but you ain’t gotta worry.” He broke eye contact with John as he reached for his pocket again. “Goddamn lighter…”

Again, John was quick to offer his own. He’d already taken and lit his own cigarette with a questioning hum. “And what, pray tell, would I ever have to worry about?” The question was meant to be arrogant, meant to make him sound like he was never nervous a day in his life. Though to be fair, the feeling of hesitance was newer than lying was.

“You’re gonna make me say it. I oughta kick your ass, John.” Jacob warned, before grinning again. This one was harder to see. “About embarrassing yourself at dinner cause you’ve done got yourself locked on Calista.”

“And how could I ever embarrass myself? I mean, beyond snorting a line of coke as long as the table in front of everyone before demanding shots while my nose bleeds down my lip?” The scenario popped to mind quickly, making him wince a little before instinctively trying to hide it.

His brother eyed him curiously, cocking an eyebrow finally. “That’s…specific.” There was still no judgement there and John immediately felt his guard drop again and he gave a sheepish look.

“Some memories are crystal clear.” He admitted that truth before immediately turning to watch the horizon again.

“Yeah well, they aren’t reality anymore. You’re in control, and no one will be upset with you. Especially not her; she accepts everyone like some kind of…” He heard the other at his side now, could smell the smoke of the other’s cigarette as the breeze carried it up and circling towards him. The words settled on him with a comforting weight he forgot he‘d needed. 

He realized the other trailed off and he grinned as he offered the first thing that came to mind. “…saint?” He received a snort in reply.

“Fuck that shit. I was gonna say like a good human being. Scars, tragedies, barely hanging together by fuckin stitches…everything. Its gonna be fine.” The tone of Jacob’s voice as he tried to be as comforting was thunder promising rain to his withered crop of nerves. He could feel his smile and it surprised him.

“Okay…thanks.” He finally gave in and looked to the man at his side.

“Don’t mention it. I mean that, you tell anyone I’ll hang you off the side of the silo.” The low thunder became lower, more like a cornered animal promising it still can hurt you. He didn’t believe he’d go ever go so far as that threat though.

“Mmhmmm, sure you will…” he admitted, smirk forming as he inhaled the vice he loved to cling to.

“I’ll make you do nothing but shit work for a week.” Jacob replied, taking his last drag and putting it out on the bottom of his shoe. John choked as he exhaled, coughing a bit before he broke into laughter.

It took him a good long minute before he could get words out, shaking his head. “Alright, that one I believe. I won’t tell no one.” 

“Thought so. But seriously, it’s gonna be fine. Come on, shouldn’t be anymore repairs. Lets feed and call it. We got company coming.” And with that, the other retrieved their tools and returned to the truck. John moved quickly after him, not completely trusting him not to just drive off and leave him there. He’d come back, but he’d still make him walk a while first. 

The rest of the day was spent in silence as he let himself think about dinner. So maybe he was a little nervous, that drive deep inside of him to make everything perfect screaming at him that they wouldn’t have time. There was so much they needed to do. Set the table, get some flowers so it didn’t look so bare bones. He felt a pang of regret about leaving his china behind when he left Georgia. He glanced to the other person in the vehicle and he felt a brief flash of relief that he couldn’t read his mind. He was so stressed out he was regretting their choices of dining ware, or the fact that there wasn’t a meal with extensive choices planned out, or that he hadn’t had time or the ability to get something because you were supposed to give gifts to people that are _welcoming and kind and glowing._

He took a deep breath before closing his eyes and trying to just stop thinking. He didn’t need to plan anything, this wasn’t a gathering of elite snobs he needed to sway over to his side. This was his family, that were without a doubt on his side, and ONE person he needed to sway to his side. But this time it wasn’t for work, it wasn’t for appearances or that insatiable need to fill his bed with as many warm bodies as he could. No this time it was for him, and just for him. A connection he wanted to make because a smaller voice in him told him that he needed it like. He needed it like oxygen or water, to keep on moving.

He heard the engine cut off and he realized they were back home. He moved before consciously making the decision as he darted for the house. He burst through the door and demanded to help Faith get things ready. She had agreed with laughing relent. _'She’s happy to see me excited about something.'_ Really he was just nervous and needed to focus on something. He looked down at himself before hurrying up the stairs, shouting out the single word—SHOWER! He could hear Jacob’s deep rumbling laughter before he closed the door behind him. He felt a warmth in his chest, glad to know the eldest Seed could still laugh as frequently as he did today alone.

He showered and dressed, spending more time than he would ever care to admit on picking out a shirt. He wanted to impress her, but he didn’t want her to think he was trying too hard and he got stuck in a loop of formal or casual. The knock at his door made him jerk out of it, pulling the worn t-shirt over his head before he headed to open the bedroom door. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised to see Callie standing before him. He grinned widely before it registered that he was doing so. He realized she held something in her hands and he looked down.

In her hands she held a small blue flower pot. A plant with striped leaves stood almost proudly in it and he quirked an eyebrow before she handed it to him. “I prefer giving plants as gifts. They bring life to a room. I’ve been growing a couple of these little ones for a while. They love being inside, and in the day time the leaves open wide and flat and spread over the sides of the pot. At night it stands up--it’s a called a prayer plant.” She informed him as he took the offered plant with gentle and unsure hands. He caught the name and gave a snort of a laugh.

“I’m surprised you didn’t give this to Joseph.”

“He wouldn’t have found the joke quite as funny.”

“Fair enough.” He responded, before turning to go place the plant on his dresser. He reached out and trailed his fingers over one of the leaves with a smile. “And now I’m left sitting on my hands. Cause I don’t have anything to offer you.” He continued as he moved to pull a nicer pair of boots on before he returned to her. She didn’t let him pass, instead giving a devilish smirk.

“But John, you have the only thing I could ask for.” She almost purred the words, leaning against the door frame now. His breath caught in his throat as he watched her for little signs of where this was headed.

When he spoke, he was worried his voice sounded strained. This could head in any number of ways, and while he wasn’t opposed to really any of them he didn’t know what to plan for. “Yeah, what’s that?” He asked, lowering his voice and for a second she stiffened up and locked eyes with him, each searching for something but not knowing what.

“You…I mean, you, as a companion. Fuck, that backfired.” The words tumbled from her mouth and he chuckled now as he watched her catch herself. She lifted a hand and pretended to fan herself. “I do believe I have the vapors.” He smirked now, almost being handed control of the situation entirely as she collected herself. He gladly accepted it, standing a little taller now.

“Then I guess when we get done with dinner we should take a walk…get some fresh air.” He asked, remembering the advice he was given yesterday. _Ask her to take a walk, it won’t matter where._

“Yes!” Callie blurted out, and his lips curled up as a blush dusted lightly across her cheeks before she sputtered through and finished what she was saying. “Um, yes. I think that sounds like a marvelous idea. Fresh air will be good, especially after a long dinner with the Seed family.” With the way she was grinning again, she’d regained her composure. She really did light up when she smiled.

“You have no idea.” He admitted lowly, and they both laughed together. She finally moved, allowing him to move through the door. He offered her his arm and she laughed as she slipped her arm through his as she commented on what a gentleman he was. “Down to my core.” He promised with a low tone and that set her to blushing again. He quit the teasing— _flirting_ —when they joined his family in the dining room. Plates had been made, and everyone was milling about and quick to greet as they walked in.

He felt a sudden absence as she slipped away from him to take a seat, and he was quick to claim one closest to her so he could hear her in favor of everyone else. And so he didn’t actually leave her side. He knew he looked like a little lost pup –he could already hear Jacob’s voice saying that—but he was. He’d admit that to himself, but that side that liked to chase damn near anything that could keep him out of his own thoughts pushed him on. Lapping at her hands as she paid him compliments and praise and gentle touches. He smiled and rose up from the depths when she turned to him and caught him in her green gaze. He felt warmth bubbling up in him before a voice made her look away.

“Let us pray.” Joseph spoke now, that tone of calming peace wavering in the air. And still he had to fight back the frown from having to divert his attention to something he knew his brother would do. But he wouldn’t argue, he’d never argue. But his brother surprised him by not immediately jumping into a prayer, but instead motioning to their guest beside him. “Shall I grace us this evening, or would you do the honors?”

“Your acceptance is inspiring Joseph. But this is your home; your deity takes care of your hearth. My gods don’t mind if I praise another in a hosts home.” Callie responded, her tone both cool and reflective but it was still laced with tone of genuine awe and a trace of suspicion. “Please, go ahead.”

“Thank you, Ms. Greene. Always such lovely company.” Joseph responded, eyes never leaving her as he offered a another smile. John bit back his frown, opting to clasp his hands and close his eyes. Maybe he’d be heard this time, and he would rather focus on a hope than the imagined tone of judgement that laced his brother’s words. That was in his head—he was broken. Not everyone was out to twist a knife into his back when his eyes weren’t on them.

Instead of following along with Joseph he gave his own prayer, that he could actually manage to steal a moment of time and make it last as long as he could. And that he could actually manage to slip away with Calista and get away from his family. He gave a quiet ‘amen’ with the rest of the chorus around the table.

Dinner lasted through a numbers of obstacles. This was a hell of a match of folks sitting around one table. These obstacles included at least one discussion from Faith on environmental causes she was trying to convince everyone else it was important that they supported. The results of which were two people swaying to her side (Callie of course, and surprisingly enough Joseph), one person undecided (himself), and one stubbornly denying it with mostly grunts. (Did he really need to name him?) There was at least two sermons squeezed into the evening before Jacob finally grumbled that if he heard one more he wouldn’t have go to Church on Sunday because he would have gotten the whole thing early with less hassle than getting up that early and not working would afford him. And finally, at least three different instances of those predictable sibling-rivalry-loops that Callie had had to break up each time.

When every plate was clean, and the decision had been made that it was indeed Faith’s turn to do the dishes, he quickly whisked Callie away by the hand before anyone else could try and claim her attention. He stopped briefly to grab his jacket before they headed out, not sure how much chill might be in the air. They slipped out and away from the house along the dirt drive in quiet retreat, both smiling brightly.

The walked in silence, but it wasn’t heavy or awkward and he didn’t feel the need to fill the air with senseless babble. At least not yet. But when they had walked far enough away he watched her relax more before she broke the silence finally. “Dinner was lovely.”

“Sure was. A charming evening with the Seeds: debates, debacles, and dirt talk. Its what we’re good at.”

“And all of it full of love…that in itself is a beautiful thing that we sometimes take for granted.” There was something in that statement that made him pause and look at her. It hadn’t been meant for him, but for her. It was in the tone, the way she didn’t look at him. Maybe she hadn’t meant to say it out loud at all.

But despite using that, filing it away, he added to it. “Its easy to take for granted what you don’t see without a struggle. Wires get crossed, and its hard to see the forest from the trees.” He kept his voice low, giving it just to her now.

She smiled and he could see a faint glistening of tears flash through her eyes in the moonlight and his heart stopped briefly before she gave a flat laugh. “If we’re gonna dive into deep so quickly, can we do it high? Or drunk, either one. I don’t think I can handle that sober right now. I’m still a little fried from yesterday.”

“Fine with weed, let’s avoid alcohol for now. It leads to poor life choices.” He replied, letting her look on at those incessant lines he kept drawing. He turned to take her in fully now, her stance and the way she seemed to move a little slower. Like she was drained. He opened his mouth for an offer that was dumped out haphazardly. “If I tell you what happened to me, will you tell me what happened to you? Yesterday, I mean. No need to tell me your life story in a night. Got plenty of time.”

She turned to look at him now, gaze bouncing back and forth across him as she tried to decide what to say. “I would…but if I did, I wouldn’t want to go home alone.” It was a quiet confession that caught him off guard, and he was quick to spring into defense. Not for himself, but for her. He wanted to make her feel comfortable.

“Then don’t.” He stated simply, the option quite simple to him.

She gave a snort, rolling her eyes now. Or he thought she did. The moonlight didn’t allow for too much detail that wasn’t reflective. “Oh, and what? Sleep on the couch downstairs?”

“Well, yes, that is an option. But I’m sure Faith wouldn’t bunking with you. Or I mean—” He stopped as the offer started to form on his tongue. He cleared his throat, before he continued on. “You could stay with me.”

“Are you asking me to stay the night?” She asked, her voice somewhere between teasing and wonderment. _‘Fuck it. Tell the truth.’_ He took a deep breath before he turned to make eye contact with her once more. She settled down, awaiting his words with a patience he may never learn.

“I’m asking you to stay so you don’t feel lonely like I do.” When the words came out, he found them heartfelt. He’d meant that. If it felt the same for her, that crushing coldness of self isolation that it feel like everything is hollow and echoing. Like emptiness is both a comfort and a curse, one that’ll drown you in drugs with a smile on your face. But he didn’t say all those feelings, he just hoped she understood. It felt like she always understood. At the few times they’d interacted. He wanted to help in this moment. “Just say ‘yes’.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll stay.” Callie whispered finally, nodding her head a bit as she agreed. Before he could say anything she stepped closer, closing the gap between them as she just leaned against his chest. Like she was exhausted. He didn’t think about it, just lifted his arms up and wrapped himself around her. Her head rested on his shoulder, face pressed against the crook of his neck as she took the deep shuddering breath of someone who was trying not to show too much. 

He tightened his embrace, holding her snuggly against him. There was no hunger here, no passion driving them. This was two souls embracing, two broken hearts that wanted the comfort of another living person. The intimacy of this moment almost took his breath away, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to react. Before if he’d felt warm hands sliding up his arms he was quick to pounce, to push it past intimacy and into primal. Primal was easy, and it didn’t form ties. He consumed and tossed aside others when they were spent.

But right now, he needed this just as much as she did. To just be held, to feel like even for a moment someone is on your side. That feeling that for just a moment, you can believe someone was willing to look past your flaws and accept you. He hadn’t experienced that spark of a possible promise of forever before, and he wasn’t sure if that was what this was. He didn’t have any experiences to compare it to. But when they pulled apart and she looked up he felt that she saw it too. Neither might be strong enough to fan into a fire that could catch quickly, but patience would let it grow as well. And for once in his life, he wanted to be patient. He didn’t want consume this greedily, but instead offer up from himself.

There was a quiet between them as they walked along, each observing the other and being honest with their actions. When he caught her shivering every now and then, he slipped the jacket from his shoulders and around hers in a single moment. When she slipped her arms through the sleeves, she then wrapped her arms around one of his as she leaned against him. He watched her hand slide down his arm into his own, and he briefly marveled at her soft skin against his. Her fingertips lingered at the small burn in his palm and he gave a softer smile in turn.

“Yesterday I got caught up in my head, in memories I thought I had outrun. Instead, they caught up and got me and I just…spaced the fuck out. When Faith called my name I snapped out of it, but I forgot the cigarette in my hand. So when everything overloaded, I crushed it out in my hand.” He gave his own confession now, and she stilled beside him as she took in his words. He’d promised her he would tell her what happened to him yesterday. He was already showing his hand sooner than he’d planned to. None of this was going as planned, but it wasn’t over whelming. It wasn’t about _just_ him. This was about both of them, them healing together. The connection had already formed strongly and he knew he’d probably tell everything eventually to this woman.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and he realized she was crying. He couldn’t see her tears exactly in the faded moonlight, but her shoulders shook and her head dropped down. Her grip tightened on his wrist, fingers splayed across the top of his hand so she was avoiding the tiny burn. “Hey, no. It’s not that bad. You don’t need to cry about it—”

“It’s not that. I’m sorry, I know I must seem crazy.” She started and before he could bumble his way through hesitant comfort, she stopped him again. “Memories are hard…they haunt you forever, and even when you can move past parts of them others grip on tightly and you can never shake them. You shake and you shake and the only thing you lose is yourself.” He’d stayed quiet, thinking carefully on what to say next.

“I can’t disagree with that. Every time I remember something I feel like something I knew was stripped away. Like earth washing out from under you in a rain, there’s no warning; its just gone.” John’s confession had started slowly, as he broke eye contact with her as he thought about the truth he was starting to realize. “Then I’m left wondering if anything I had built myself up around for years was real. How much of it was just broken fragmented thoughts that I connected in ways they didn’t belong?”

“Yes, yes exactly.” Callie agreed, pressing into his side again as if she needed the support to keep standing. He pulled his hand gently from her own to pull her into another hug. He felt her arms wrap around him, clutching at his shirt as she held on like he was the last tie she had to the world right now.

“Feels like drowning, feels like nothing but dark around you. Weighs you down harshly as you suffocate on your own feelings. You get stuck in loops, knowing its broken. Knowing you were told how to fix but those words didn’t stick. Just the ones that said you were broken. The ones that confirmed your fears.” He wasn’t sure how to do any of this, as long as he was being honest with himself. He didn’t know how move so she would know he meant to give back the warmth he received from her. But he could feel something rising to the surface, ripping from his mouth like a calm current. “But this, this right now. This is real. There’s no haze, no fog, and these memories won’t be bullshit we have to wade through to figure out.” Words though, he had plenty of those. He could always give those freely, like a bleeding wound.

She stayed silent for a long moment before she broke the night, her breathing having finally calmed. “Promise?” The question was hushed, and she offered a smile as she quoted him from the night before. He leaned in, pressed his lips against her temple. He wouldn’t lean his forehead against hers; no that was never his move and he wasn’t about to try and claim it. Knowing his luck it would just spur on conflicting feelings. No, he had time find his own way with affection.

“I promise,” he answered quietly, watching her carefully still as he pulled back enough to look down at her.

“I want to stay with you. I want to talk. But I don’t want them to talk.” She told him now, nodding back to his home. He laughed quietly now, nodding vigorously.

“Agreed. One of my siblings is intense. All of them together is chaos.” John whispered quietly, confiding in her an obvious secret. She gave a shaky laugh that came with a sharp inhale.

“Can you take me home?” The question was meek, exhausted.

“Yes. As long as you drove here. Otherwise I have to borrow the truck.” He offered now, eyes never leaving hers.

“No, I drove. ATV, because I don’t exactly have roads to my place.”

He nodded then, already ready to get away for a minute. “Works for me. Let me go let them know, I guess. If I disappear into the woods over night, I think they might all have a melt down. I’ll come back to the house burnt down and all of them arguing.”

“I don’t know if it would be quite that bad.”

“It’d be damn close to it.”

They walked back, eventually separating from each other’s touch with reluctance. But neither of them were sure where this was going, and he at least didn’t want his family involved yet. Those lines again, and these moments were meant to stay personal for now. Something he could look on with fondness without any kind of taint from his conflicting feelings towards his family. 

Departing didn’t take as long as he’d thought it would. He’d spoken quietly with Jacob for a moment while Faith slipped past him out to her best friend with concern etched across her face. He’d felt a brief flash of jealousy, that she knew something he didn’t. But he reminded himself that it made sense. She had known Callie longer, of course she would. Jacob had snapped him back to attention with a low grumble of approval.

“Alright, that’s fine. I’ll take Faith out with me tomorrow, but I’m gonna need you to come back here at some point. Joseph wants to run into town, do a few errands to get…something or another. It’s a church thing. Faith was gonna go, but…” Jacob started, voice as low as it normally was. John looked past him, down the hall. He couldn’t see Joseph and when he turned back Jacob jerked his thumb downwards, motioning towards the cellar. _He must have been looking for something in the boxes down there, but what?_

“But I’m changing plans. Yeah that’s fine.” John continued on, not drawing attention to their silent exchange. 

“Take her tomorrow if you’re avoiding spending time with…” Jacob grumbled even lower now, making sure this one was between the two of them, and he didn’t use names. It helped ease the nerves prickling through the younger Seed’s veins as paranoia sparked up. He didn’t want to feed those rumor weeds, especially when they were true.

His tone was more snappish than he’d meant, rising up as tall as he could. “I’m not doing that, you shut your mouth. I’ll be fine. I can do that.” It didn’t help that he still had to lift his chin slightly to meet his brother’s eyes without hesitation.

The elder Seed sighed, shaking his head a bit. “John, you ain’t even gone to church since you come home. He thinks you’re avoiding him. He’s not gonna say nothing, and you know he won’t. It’s fine if you are, I get that.” He was still quiet. “We all went through our own wars.”

“I’m. _Not._ ” He pushed the words out, standing rigid at the challenge. He could see his brother watching him again, that look of a predator judging his next movement with precision. He lifted his hands finally, backing up slowly. He decided it wasn’t a battle worth fighting.

“Fine, fine. I said what I needed. Just get back here before noon.” He conceded, turning and heading back down the hall.

He nodded finally, following to head up the stairs and grab a change of clothes and a few things. “Okay. Thank you.” John told him as he walked past him, knowing the other knew he meant both for letting him leave and for not pushing it.

They left quickly, Callie letting him drive and opting to wraps her arms around him and hold on. They stayed up a bit, talking as much as they could. Right up until she fell asleep leaning against him on the couch. He decided they could talk tomorrow. Then he’d carried her off to her bed, covering her up and heading to the porch to smoke one last cigarette before bed. When he’d finished and gone back inside, he sprawled out on the couch. He stared at the ceiling as he realized he had to finally spend some time with Joseph. The one person he’d been avoiding actively since he got back. 

Memories and fears, they all swirled heavily around Joseph. He wanted his approval, but he didn’t want his judgement or disappointment. He wanted to be close to him but there was this strange resentment that he hadn’t quite pinpointed beyond petty jealousy of one simple fact: John had fallen from the cooking pan that been their own explosive home, and into the fires of the hell that had been his adoptive family. Joseph hadn’t been adopted, just bounced around and never staying anywhere long. He didn’t have time to worry about someone hurting him, he didn’t have to fear going ‘home’ because he had no where else to go. 

He’d spent so long believing that the other had had it the easiest of the three of them; hell, he’d even found Faith along the way and formed enough of a connection that he brought her into their family. That had also been something that had strained them. Their entire reunion had been bullshit from start to finish.

Joseph had found him first, going back to Georgia where John had been running his life into the ground nonstop for years already. He’d been condescending and cruel, lashing out with cutting words when Joseph had first approached him. He tried a few more times, and eventually John relented enough to ask what he wanted. _Because everyone wanted something._ But he’d been right. Joseph wanted land in Montana, somewhere they could all gather. So they could be a family together. He’d inherited a small fortune from the Duncans, and he hadn’t touched it. He hadn’t really wanted to ever handle their money, and as a lawyer he made enough to live how he wanted. Or at least it had for a while. So he could do it easily, he could lend him the money. The younger hadn’t been so keen on it until Joseph told him he was trying to find Jacob. That when he did, they would need somewhere to go. That had caught his attention and he’d been ready to help. 

He signed a check over the next day, told his brother when he found Jacob he had to tell him. And years later, Joseph had brought in Faith. John still refused to join them here in Montana, but he had accepted her as his sister before Jacob had. They wrote letters, and her words were more focused when written. He knew if they ever spent time together, they’d bond. It was part of why he’d stayed away. He was weak, _they made him weak._ And that could never do. So he wrote letters, sent money if he thought they needed it, called occasionally. But he never visited.

But Joseph always sent him pictures. Of the ranch, of the mountains, of Faith or Jacob working or laughing. Always trying to force a bond John hadn’t been ready for, and in the long run he supposed he should be grateful for it. The next and last time he’d hit rock bottom, he had somewhere to go. It had been so surreal, finishing rehab and seeing Joseph and Faith waiting to bring him home.

He snorted at the thought before he closed his eyes. He should talk to Callie before he had to leave tomorrow. He couldn’t spend half a day with Joseph alone in the car without venting about it first. He was still most likely going to snap at his older brother, but he wanted to keep it to the minimum. 

He turned back over on the couch so he was watching the room, his back protected. He could feel sleep calling to him, and he let himself slip into it despite the uneasiness. He would worry about everything tomorrow, after he made sure Callie was okay. 

Joseph could fucking wait.


	4. Forced Bonds

His morning started with him waking up and smelling something cooking. He sat up quickly, already rubbing his eyes and looking around. First thought upon waking had been that he had fallen asleep downstairs on the couch and Jacob was making breakfast, ready to step through the room and bark at him. He needed to get that man a dog, so someone will finally bark back. But when he stopped to look around he realized that he was not downstairs as he looked at the nameless books stacked on the too-short coffee table.

Something moved in his peripheral and he turned quickly. He was looking out an open window at a wind chime bobbing in the breeze. His hearing caught up and he could hear it now, and that made him smile a tiny smile. He was confused, but for some reason he didn’t feel fear. When he heard singing coming from what he assumed to be the kitchen, judging by that heavenly scent drifting from behind him. He remembered where he was. He was at Callie’s. He was going to spend a morning with someone he was actually looking forward to talking to. Huh, weird.

Then he remembered what he had to do later, and he groaned before he dropped his head into his hands. He needed to know what time it was, because he had to get back by noon. He stood up, choosing to make the most of the time he knew he’d enjoy. He followed the singing, taking in everything around him again. Bound and drying flowers hung from various surfaces, and any paintings on the walls were of nature in some way or another. He wondered if she’d painted them? He stopped to look outside, and it looked like all the way around her cabin was a garden of flowers and other plants, but he couldn’t see anything he recognized as a vegetable. He had no idea, plants weren’t his thing. No wonder she was friends with Faith.

He stopped lingering and walked silently along as he pieced together things about her. She really did like nature. From the health of the plants, she spent a lot of time on them. She lived alone, but he knew Faith came to see her sometimes. Jacob probably only came out to fix something she couldn’t do herself, but from everything around him he had no idea what it could be that she couldn’t do. He wondered how long she had lived here as he stopped in the door way to the kitchen.

But he stopped thinking about anything when he caught sight of her. She’d pulled her hair back but it wasn’t braided, and highlights of golden brown twisted through her wavy locks. It looked like sunshine trapped in her hair and it made him smile. His eyes fell to her gaze, lids lowered a bit as she swayed along to the hard rock song playing from a small speaker. He found himself watching her lips as they lifted and curled around words. _“…contaminating everything we thought came from the heart, it never did right from the start…”_ He leaned against the door frame, the song twisting along through memories and stirring something familiar. _“…just listen to the noises, null and void instead of voices…”_ Her sundress swayed softly as she moved, the pale pink roses on it dancing with her.

The words left his own lips as he sang the next lyrics, low in his chest. _“Before you tell yourself it’s just a different scene, remember it’s just different from what you’ve seen.”_ He grinned a bit, glad he could remember a song he liked whenever he heard it. “I know that song.” He said when she turned to look at him. “Didn’t take you for that style music. To be fair, I don’t what I expected. But not that.”

“Most people don’t, really. I’m never sure why.” She answered, turning her eyes briefly from the task to search out his. He offered her a smile for it, and she beamed back. She already seemed different than last night. Full of energy, excited. She must be lonely out here. He’d have to come back later if he could.

He finally snapped out of his thoughts and was quick to offer words. “Most people don’t look past the sound of the feelings or even the words.” He started explaining, and now he had to finish. He watched her turn back to what she was doing and that made it easier for the confidence to swell back up. “The harsh words and loud sounds, it sounds like anger. And wrath makes people uncomfortable because they don’t like being reminded that even they can commit that sin, that they are capable of even envisioning violence or possibly acting on it. They don’t like being reminded that they too are human.“

“You’re really good with words.” Callie replied, after giving a low hum. He looked to the food and realized she was working on sausage currently. He could see two small omelets already plated just past her and he felt immediately hungry as she finished her thought. “I like to hear you talk, to explain. You should do it more.”

He laughed now, confidence swelling more at the compliment. _She liked to hear him talk._ “Don’t tempt me, devil woman. And I was a lawyer for a very long time. I was paid to be good with words and figuring out the surest path out of any circle of Hell. Now its my turn to find my own way out. Except this time I’m not getting paid.” He replied, giving her information on himself now. He wanted to give her the truth because she would listen, would want to.

His thoughts halted again when another wicked grin split her lips as she looked to him again. “And it’s a long, hard road out of Hell.” She offered, a low hum to her words. 

“Fuckin Amen.” He concluded, and they laughed together as she finished the sausage and plated it as well. She turned off the burner and he stepped out of the way to stand aside. She brought the plates to a small dining table pushed into a corner with only two chairs and set them down, returning with two glasses of sweet tea. She pulled out a seat and ordered him to sit, a command he followed. She sat down in the other chair.

He felt a brief flash of shock when she immediately started eating. He hesitated for a moment, some part of him telling him he needed to pray. He almost gave in when she spoke. “Oh shit, I forgot you pray.”

“Well, I mean…Joseph does…”

“How about you? Do you believe in the same God that your brother does?”

The question caught him off guard and look up at her again. “Never thought about that before. Never had to until I came back home. Religion has brought me a lot of grief.” He winced as something twisted in him and he broke eye contact. Her voice came again, quiet and soothing.

“Religion is different than faith. You don’t have to go to church or follow rules to have faith.” Callie whispered just to him as she reached a hand over to slide it over the top of his. He again wondered at the differences between his hand and her own as her fingertips traced the star with the diamonds surrounding it. “I know, shocker. Here, I’ll use myself as an example. I’m pagan, and I worship a number of deities. I pray to them as I tend my garden, cook my food, cleanse my home…but they’re always listening, even when I don’t join a coven or go to sermons or church. They know that what I do, I do in their names and spirits and their domains reach far wider than we give them credit for. Your God will listen, no matter where you are, if you should so choose to speak to Him. And for someone who’s son spoke endlessly on forgiveness, then I don’t think he’d punish you for choosing not to.” 

He opened his hand and she slid her fingers perfectly between his and there was that spark again, something that was hopeful and brilliant in that darkness he often found comfort in. “That’s…very comforting, actually. Thank you. I guess like everything, I’d like to choose when I speak. Obligations take the joy out of everything.” He joked briefly, lifting her hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the back of it, right where one of those twisting vines ended in a tiny flower. “I don’t know if I believe. I think I only believe in myself, and even that’s questionable at the best of times.” He admitted that to her before looking up at the faint blush dusting her cheeks again.

“That’s okay too. To not believe at all, or all the time, or to only believe in yourself. You don’t need faith, it’s just there to guide in times of trouble.” She responded, smiling at him again. “You, John Seed, are more than enough without an outside influence. But allies will always make you stronger. It’s the magic of friendship.”

He gave a laugh, grin spreading like wildfire across his face. “That was corny.”

“I try my very best.” Callie reassured him before she finally let go of his hand. 

They ate their food, and he realized that this might have been the most delicious meal he’s eaten in days. Or maybe he was just really hungry—maybe he wanted to impress her, to compliment her. Regardless, it was definitely worth the incoming shit storm he was putting off for as long as he could. When they were done eating, he finally let himself bring it up.

“So I have a confession to make. I don’t know if that’s your thing…” John started, trying to make a joke.

“It can be, if that’s what you need.” She responded without hesitation. He pulled out his cigarette pack and she pushed back from the table as well. They walked together, as if on the same wavelength, and he felt a power in that. One that might just let him open up, maybe keep him open throughout the entire day. “What sins have you committed, John?” God help him, he loved the way she said his name.

“More than I could tell you in the time we have, but that’s not the point.” He started, before lighting a cigarette. It didn’t take as long to admit it as he would have thought it would have. “I have been avoiding spending any time alone with Joseph.”

“Would you be willing to tell me why?” She asked, moving to sit on the steps of her porch. He chose to sit down beside her as he talked, smiling as she leaned against him. 

“It’s complicated.” He started, forcing the snap to his voice back down and out of sight. He didn’t want to take any of this out on…well, anyone really. These were _his_ demons, _he_ should be the one fighting them. “Crossed wires, remember? I should be thankful, grateful…I should love him. But instead I’m…resentful. He was lucky, he didn’t get beat as often; he didn’t get beat by the people that took him in. He didn’t feel like he needed to drown himself out, to hide deep down from everything. And he can believe in something without doubt and its frustrating.”

“Then talk to him. Maybe you don’t know everything, maybe he doesn’t know either. You’ll only ever move past the beast if you confront it. And even after that, you’ll still have to face it from time to time.” Callie answered, and he realized it really was that simple wasn’t it. He just had to talk, had to be honest. He would have to confess to everyone about everything until there was nothing invisible left that could trip him up. She patted his hand knee, before he reached down and took her hand again. “And if you ever feel like you are not enough, I will be there at your side to offer my strength as well. And yes, that is a promise.” She hummed now, and he smiled as he exhaled. He believed her.

“Thank you.” He murmured, and she answered with a whispered ‘no problem’. He lingered a little longer, finishing his smoke and sitting with her in silence after a long moment. “Mind if I come back tonight?”

“Of course not. But right now, I suppose we should get you back.” She finally relented after a minute, moving away from him. He felt empty for bit, before he finished and stood up with her again. 

“Regrettably, I have to agree.” John admitted, finding more join in his next statement. “But I’ll be back.”

“I can’t wait to see you when you do. I’ll give you a ride.” She offered, and she drove them back this time. 

She pulled up in front of their house, and before he could over think it he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple. She laughed a bit at the rushed movement, catching his face between her hands and pulling him down. She pressed her own kiss to the bridge of his nose before releasing him. He laughed now too, waving as she drove off before he turned back to walk to the porch. He had a little skip to his step as his head skimmed the clouds before a voice anchored him back down to Earth quickly.

“You and Ms. Greene seemed to have gotten close.” Joseph broke the quiet symphony of the morning songbirds and John’s heart jumped into his throat. He could feel his pulse racing as he climbed the steps to the porch. Time to put on an act.

John clutched dramatically at his chest, leaning against a post. “Fuck! Damn Joseph, we need to get you a bell or something. Too quiet.” He couldn’t help but look up at Joseph, and he could catch the faintest curling of his lips. He was happy, and John felt his chest seize briefly at the realization he was having to act like how he was expected to while Joseph really was just happy to see him.

Joseph watched John walk over to him, and before John could back away—like a frightened animal—he was pulled in by his older brother so the other could rest his forehead against his own. He could feel the hand at the base of his neck, ruffling his hair. When Joseph released him, he lifted a hand to smooth his hair back into place as he fought the frown. “I thought I was making my presence fairly well known. I came to stand out here when I heard the ATV approaching. I figured you would want to smoke before we left, and I am not in the biggest rush quite yet.”

“Got that right.” John answered, hands quick to retrieve what was his as he tried to push away the feeling of guilt squeezing his gut. “What are we doing, anyway?” He exhaled the smoke as he spoke, the older brother moving to stand upwind of him. He bit back the smirk that threatened to bubble forth as the other jumped into explaining.

“Well, I have a couple people that asked for prayers so I’d like to stop in and check on them. Faith and Calista made some sweets for the Ryes they have asked me to deliver.” Joseph’s voice was calm, refreshing. If he told himself it was so enough, eventually it would ring true as instinct. An automatic cue on how to react. “And I need to pick up some packages from the post office.” 

John finally nodded, and they stayed silent as he finished up steeling his nerves under the guise of a bad habit. Then they climbed into the truck and headed out. He would glance at Joseph, hoping both to be ignored and acknowledged, but the other watched the road through ahead of them with a calm smile on his face. He radiated positivity and John felt nauseous when he wished he could wipe that smile from his face. Instead he kept his eyes on the road. Then a sinking sensation started to creep over him. 

“How much socializing am I gonna have to do?” He blurted out, and Joseph turned his intense gaze from the road to look over at him. He could see the other’s eyes on him, but his sunglasses hid the details. That and the fact that he couldn’t really look at him for very long, as he was the one driving.

Finally a leveled smile appear, before he offered what he deemed an accurate comparison that John would understand. “More than Jacob, less than Faith.” He was right, he had understood that.

“I can handle that.” John offered, smug smile pressed across his lips.

“I thought as much,” Joseph answered, as if dismissing him. Good thing John was more than okay with not talking. He lifted his hand and turned on the radio, opting to fill the silence with static that wasn’t either of them talking. He smiled as hard rock filled the cab before he lifted a hand and turned down the volume a bit. He thought of Callie, of her green eyes smiling and waiting for him to come back. The memory of her kissing the bridge of his nose made him scrunch his nose a bit as another cocky grin graced him. Soft, gentle, every movement they made was something he’d never done before and all of it was riddled with truths he didn’t mind sharing and that alone was amazing. Then his brain took him to the honesty he needed to act on soon and he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

But before he could dwell too long on truths he was saved by Joseph giving him directions. He followed the orders contently, glad to have something to focus on. The first stops he’d been permitted to linger in the truck, reading a book he’d nabbed before he left. He fought the urge to smoke another cigarette as he waited, but Joseph never stayed long enough that he needed to. 

The stop to the Ryes he was asked to come along for, as there were two large trays and Joseph only had so many arms. He had to admit that the air field excited him a bit, and he looked around eagerly. He’d always had a fascination with planes, even being able to fly them when he lived in Georgia and he wished he could now. But that would be another wait, and maybe some sweet talking today could make flying a possibility in the future. 

He stood behind Joseph as he knocked on the door, eyes still jumping all around the place as he took in his surroundings. The door swung open, and they were greeted by a kind, very pregnant woman and just behind her a man watching his every move. Something immediately set him on edge, but he had an inkling it was all in his mind but he felt that need to impress rise up. He tried to look as confident as he could, but with a wince he realized he had succeeded in coming off as cocky when he thought he saw the other man frown slightly.

She glanced past Joseph and saw him and she offered a wave now. “Hi, I’m Kim. This is Nick. We were expecting you!”

“We were?” Nick, as he had just been named, feigned ignorance but a smirk broke through his façade. But Kim had not noticed it as she pushed on his arm lightly.

“Yes, I told you earlier.” She chided, 

“Oh right.” It was now that Nick stepped forward to take the trays from them. He disappeared for a moment, returning with free hands. He offered John his hand, and the other shook it now. They both looked each other over, and he recognized that searching eye. They were both trying to figure the other out. Sizing each other up. “Hey man, nice to meet ya.”

It was simple, but he’d take it. Another grin before he spoke now. “John Seed.” No more than he needed, and no more than he was asked of. So much for that plan of sweet talking. They left as quickly as they had arrived, Joseph finding a way to expertly excuse themselves so John never had to worry if they were staying past their welcome. If it helped keep a little more of the stress from pushing down on his chest, the better it was.

And then they were off, to the post office. They retrieved the required things that couldn’t be delivered to the house and started on the journey back. He wondered what else he would need to do before he could head off, back to Callie just like he promised. He fought to keep from smiling, but the thought of her again helped calm his pulse back down. He could do it. She had said so, _he was strong._

“So how often you do this kinda thing?” The question wasn’t one John had been going for, but it had been the one he asked. He waved one of his hands in a lose circle. “All this, I mean. Private prayers and delivering cookie baskets?” Sure, why not. They could start there. It was a good question. Why _did_ he do that?

“As often as I can. You should love thy neighbor. And sowing the seeds of kindness grows it in turn.” Joseph responded, and the answer would have almost infuriated John if he had been expecting an easy answer. They both watched the road quietly, and he decided to nibble at what he perceived to be bait. 

“A wise statement iffin’ I ever heard one, brother. Is that the topic of Sunday?” John challenged, not sure how to poke at this particular animal. He wanted to yell, he wanted him to understand, he didn’t want to disappoint him.

“That should be the topic, as you put it, of every day. If we are kind, then there is a chance to form bonds. If we are kind, others will seek us out to be kind in turn.” Another cool tone from Joseph, and it came off as reflective. It also pushed all the right buttons, just like he had hoped it would. And John pushed on through the fray. But he kept going. “I think you and Nick could be friends. We’re sowing the seeds.”

“Yeah, I get it. Kind, we have to love them and they will love us. But it doesn’t always work like that. Sometimes you’re kind, and all you get is spit on.” John replied, his own iced lawyer tone taking over his words. He had missed how smooth this voice had always felt, rolling off his tongue with an ease that was so natural. Nothing mattered more than the words right now, and he wriggled his own hook in front of the older brother.

Joseph snatched it up, quick at the draw if it meant he could preach. “Then you have to forgive. To forgive is to be forgiven and be free of your burdens.” The older argued, lifting his hands in front of him in his favorite pose. The words just made John laugh darkly as he shook his head slowly.

“But you’re not free Joseph. Some things are there forever.” John’s tone was dark, his ice being exchanged for shadows. Shadows of those suppressed memories threatening to spill forth like they always did. 

But still his older brother argued. “Somethings just take time—” This phrase made John grip the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white, and he jerked the truck to the side of the road and threw it into park. His voice rose without warning as he finally placed all the words he had needed into place.

“THEY’RE THERE FOR EVER JOSEPH.” He bit down on his lip for as long as he could before he growled out the rest of what he needed to say. “They’re there, and even if you don’t understand them, they are there. Etched into your skin, in your every waking moment, in every God damned step you fucking take…they ARE THERE.” John could feel the negativity rolling off him in a storm of lashing black winds. “I know you don’t understand, I know you just want to be there and you’re trying to help. But you push and you push. And you can’t force it, you can’t force a bond I’m still trying to wrap my head around. And I’m not talking about Nick, that’s a whole other circus.” He tried to explain, but he was missing so many things while jumping all around that spectrum of thoughts he needed to say as the other watched him carefully.

But before Joseph could speak he pushed on. “You know what I used to think? Right after I saw you again after so many years of being separated? _Fucking finally._ Finally you show back up. It only took you twenty fucking years. And after those particular wrathful thoughts got boring I thought… _you were the lucky one._ You didn’t get used up and spat out back out to join the rest of the filth in this world, you couldn’t of. Because you still had hope. _You still had faith._ And then you found Jacob and we learned how his life went and it further reinforced that resentment.” Deep breaths John, deep breaths.

“But I remember what they told me in rehab. Everything is all fucked up in my head, has been for years. From our parents, from our separation, from the people who adopted me later. I know its not your fault those people looked at me and said ‘he’s the one’. You weren’t the reason they decided I was tainted, and you didn’t help plan the many different reasons they came up with to beat me.” John kept confessing, kept his words flowing until they came to an end finally. He gave a grunt before he finished up. “I fucking know that, but it’s still there and it makes me feel guilty and I can’t stand it.” And with that he rolled the window down as far as he could and lit another cigarette to calm himself back down.

There was a log, heavy silence. The tension was thick, and occasionally he would look to Joseph. It took a while for the other to speak, and he asked a simple question. “Do you think I hate you?” His brother’s voice came out low and shaky, and he could hear the catch in the back of his throat.

John sighed finally, shaking his head. “No. No I don’t. But I fucking want you to. I want you to hate me for something, anything—so this rage feels justified. But at the same time I don’t want you to be _disappointed_ in me.” Talking was more exhausting when it involved feelings, and he closed his eyes briefly as he focused on calming his pulse back down.

“John, I could never be disappointed in you.” Joseph’s words were both relieving and frustrating in that he had genuinely meant them. 

“I know that too. At least I think I know that. But you have to give me space. I need time to adjust.” He admitted finally, turning to meet Joseph’s eyes finally. The other reached for him, and again John let him press their foreheads together.

Voice low, and this time he felt like it could calm him. “Okay John. I just…missed you.” The affection there made his heart ache again as he still wished he could have avoided it. When he let go, he replied with his suddenly drained energy.

“I missed you too. Can we go home? I know you don’t like to drive but my head is pounding and I made a promise so I’d like to get back soon.” 

They didn’t leave until John got the nod. He opted to keep smoking as he drove, watching the road carefully as he thought about how nice it would be to leave again when they got home. He thought about Callie waiting for him, ready to give him any affection he was craving. He wanted to be close to her, especially now.

He helped Joseph carry things in, and then he was off once more to Callie’s. He went on horseback this time, now having learned the name of his horse was Sage. He looked forward to telling her he had listened to what she said, couldn’t wait to feel her hands against his own again. He grinned as he headed off, fresh clothes and a few other things tossed in a bag across his back. He fully intended to stay the night again.


	5. Kept Promises

John hummed lowly, a song tickling the back of his brain as he brought Sage around to the corral he knew to be there now. He climbed down, loosening the saddle and slinging it over the fence for now. He soothed gentle fingers along the animals neck before he pulled its reins off gently as well. He deserved the feeling of freedom, they were both out here to relax. Sage nickered again, resting his neck over John’s shoulder briefly before turning off to nibble lazily at the grass around them. 

He heard a shout of greeting as he stepped out of the fence, barely closing the gate when he felt arms go around his waist. He froze up, glancing down at the arms that held him. The vines gracing them assured him it was okay and he let himself relax into the embrace before he was thankfully let go. But when he turned around, he was quick to pull her back in against him.

“What’s his name?” Callie asked now, looking him past him briefly to the horse with a content expression before she lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck securely.

He grinned now. “His name’s Sage.” Then he took the moment to turn his head and press his face into the crook of her neck. She smelt like flowers and dirt _and life._ It was surprisingly comforting as she laughed lightly. 

“Come on now and let me go, I just finished up the weeding and I’m covered in soil. You don’t want to get dirty, do you?” Despite her words, she held onto him tightly still. He could feel her fingers at the base of his neck, toying with his hair. He didn’t feel the immediate need to fix it but he pulled away eventually. Her fingertips slipped down his neck and shoulders, leaving little trails of fire in their wake. 

“Doesn’t bother me.” He answered simply, looking down into her eyes as she lit up, smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. 

“Oh really now? Do you got a thing for dirty?” She challenged, that purr back in her voice as she tried pushing different buttons. Always trying to coax a reaction from him. Time to keep with the trend of surprising her.

“I got a thing for you.” John answered, his own eyes no doubt showing his own surprise at the resonating truth in the words. He smiled at her soft gasp of ‘Oh.’ “I don’t know what it is yet, because the feeling is still new. A lot of things are new again; hell a year ago I was in rehab.” They pulled completely apart until she reached for his hand again, and he let her take it as he tried to summarize things. “I didn’t have a good life, I learned to lie, and was indiscriminate when it came to drugs. Liked ‘em all a little too much.” He was met with quiet, her expression thoughtful as she looked him over.

Her lips barely parted and if he hadn’t been paying attention he could have missed the words that slipped passed them. “Three years ago I lost my son.” 

The confession punched him in the gut and he winced a bit for her, empathy welling up in him. That in itself was overwhelming and new but he didn’t know how to fix the tears stirring up in her eyes. So he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her trembling lips, and she returned the chaste gesture of comfort before he pulled back to whisper lowly. “Shall we go get high and tell each other our problems?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” She answered breathlessly, holding onto him as he led her back inside. He settled down, watching her as she moved quietly around the rooms to gather things. She instructed him to clean off the coffee table, and he did so without question. She returned with a small wooden box and a bottle of whiskey. When she caught him eyeing it she stopped and looked a little sheepish. “That’s for me. I won’t push anything on you.”

“Actually if we’re talking about the past, I might need that too.” He admitted and she pushed it towards him as she took a seat on the couch. He plopped down at the other end and he watched as she opened the box. He could see her fingers moving, hear paper shuffling, before he saw her lift the joint to her lips to wet the seal. She finished up the joint, holding it up like an offering. He chuckled lowly as she lit it and inhaled deeply. She handed it over to hurry off to the kitchen. She returned just as he was exhaling, setting two small glasses on the table near the bottle of tempting liquid amber. 

It didn’t take long to decide he would be putting off church tomorrow again, but he was ready to talk to someone. Admittedly, it wasn’t anyone in his family like he was sure they had expected or wanted. But it was someone he did consider a friend, someone he held some unspoken bond with. Hell, he had kissed her earlier. The thought ran through his head again as they smoked quietly, and soon he poured himself a bit of the whiskey just to focus back on the task at hand. She followed suit as they each tried to convince themselves to start.

John started his tale of tragedy first, because it was a epic saga of woe for the ages. Some of it was recalled, some fuzzy memories of feelings he could attach to the stories his brothers had told him. Abused as a child by the people that brought him into it, too young to remember the actual event but old enough to remember the pain like a deep rooted fear. A remembered fear that any touch that was once tender could turn violent. It came with a distinct dislike of hospitals and the smell of disinfectant, dismay, and death that they carried down to the bone. He had hated rehab for that reason; it smelled like a hospital no matter how hard they had tried to make it not look like one.

After the hospital, if he reached, there were fuzzy memories of a family finding him and choosing him. He hadn’t been sure why, but there had been an air of excitement about him. They were kind, they wanted him, and for so long they had loved him. He was a good son, a fine heir they could pass their name onto. But they picked up some unregistered offense over time. When he reached the age of five in his mind, he hit a wall of phrases—sentences that the Duncans had embedded down into his psyche. “No one wanted you, _but we did."_ “Everyone abandoned you but _we_ saved you.” “You were _forgotten_ , but now you’re a Duncan.” He could remember from a young age that he knew he was adopted, he knew he had family but he couldn’t remember them well. He could just barely tap into the haze for grumbled promises of protection. It’d been just a sound that had echoed through his mind and heart for years, but it never clicked in place that it was a word—that it had a meaning. _Protection._

Age six, the beatings started. They—his _family_ —brought him into their kitchen and told him every movement he made was temptation, that time and time again they had given him so very many chances to reject to the sin in him. He couldn’t remember when these instances had been, but he knew he had absolutely believed them. He had just wanted to know what it was, what it was he could avoid, when the first hit had landed. It had continued a while, a single question repeated between blows until it became a chant: _“do you confess your sin?”_ They had beaten him until when they asked that infernal question, all he could say was “yes.” Another word etched into his memory that would linger until he died.

Life continued on until by the time he was ten, he had learned to manipulate anyone or anything to his advantage. He hadn’t really had a say in his path to being a lawyer; life had been twisted enough that he thought power would make him safe, and money was power. His _father_ was lawyer and he had to continue the legacy. As he grew older, after having made his connections of the world, he realized that everyone currently with any kind of power was corrupt. At fifteen, he got his first letter from Joseph. He wasn’t entirely sure how the letter had made it through his “parents” defenses. Maybe they just got confident he’d never leave; they weren’t wrong. It’d be quite a few years before he wrote back, but he still read every letter that came through.

Graduating high school had been easy; it had been college that almost broke him. He went off with expectations of the world, viewing it with rose tinted glasses that told him everyone was cruel and ruthless. It was hard to connect with anyone, and soon even that part of him was manufactured and tailored to suit him. He couldn’t stand the loneliness it left him with but still he pushed through. _He could only depend on himself._ But he was good at impressing people, good at swaying them to his side with smooth words and a falsified image of charm he summoned forth each and every morning he woke up. It was only four years, but by his fourth he’d discovered the joys of alcohol and the way it made him loosen up and it helped him relieve the stress he hadn’t realized he’d been building like steam that needed to be released from a pressure cooker. He walked across that stage to receive that degree he’d worked so hard on while nursing the worst hangover. And as soon as he could, he jumped back in and it was onto law school. He started writing back to Joseph, whom he’d only known from the pictures and words he sent.

While in law school he found that pills helped him more than drinking did. He drank less, popped more pills, and still he was passing almost everything on his own natural talent and intelligence. But when things got harder still, he started bribing his way through just as he’d learned as a child. Little things at first, to keep his grades above average. Then bigger things, to make up entire classes he missed when he was so far gone he’d forgotten what day of the week it was. Shortly after graduating law school at the age of twenty five, the Duncans died in a car accident on a dark and stormy drive back from some party where his father had no doubt been buying out politicians—for a lack of a better word. With this news came two things: an inheritance, and complete freedom. He started writing Joseph more frequently, clinging to the offer of an unspoken bond from this mysterious man claiming to be his brother when he was left with no one else he could claim as his own.

He was twenty six when he passed the BAR exam, and twenty seven he got his license to practice law. The career path proved to be harder than he thought, piling on more and more stress. Eventually he moved on from pills again, this time straight to the warm, energizing embrace of cocaine. The first time he’d actually met Joseph he’d been high as a kite, grinning manically the entire time as he kept the thoughts bubbling to the surface of his mind bottled up inside. The drugs coursing through him let him act easier in his mind. He didn’t have much inspiration to pursue Joseph’s offer of family beyond that strange urge inside him, but then the older Seed had shown him a picture of their elder brother and everything sunk home. Those vague feelings clinging to the inside of his heart when he was so lonely it made him ache. _Protection._ He’d been a little more keen to listen then. They kept in constant contact after that, John demanding updates on the progress of finding Jacob. When he’d been found, Joseph came to visit again. This time, he was asking for money. He’d kept his promise of loyalty, given him the money, and shortly after that exchange he met Faith. He started receiving more letters each week, from Jacob and their newly discovered sister as well as Joseph’s.

He kept pushing off stress, pushing off thoughts that were trying to catch up to him. He managed to avoid it all for about three more years. At a party he got a little too free, taking things offered to him all night, but the last thing had been acid. He dropped it, and everything was beautiful and all the colors were brighter and sounds were suddenly clearer and he _loved this world, why had he ever thought otherwise?_ Until when everyone had left and that loneliness had time to settle back into him. The next time he’d looked in a mirror he could see every sin he’d ever committed etched across his skin. He’d tried so hard to scrub them off but he never could, and the raw skin he’d had the next day reminded him that they were still there. That had been when he’d gotten his hands on a tattoo gun and began carving them into his skin forever. Things he couldn’t reach he’d had others do for him, even paying for some to be put in place so there weren’t just sins etched across him. He didn’t stop the blood letting until his body was covered. It took weeks.

Six months after was an endless cycle of chasing dreams and dodging demons from the past with everything he could get his hands on, trying to drown out the voices swirling around his head; the voices that were beat into him as a child. They were gone, but they still had their claws in him. And just like always, everything caught up to him in the form of disaster. This time it was him running his car off the road and straight into a tree. He’d been lucky enough to walk away with a broken arm, rehab, and his career brought to a screeching halt.

Back in the now, they had reached the end of his life story. They’d also finished two joints together, and he’d gone through three cigarettes; he shared at least one with her. Callie, on the other hand, had been drinking harder while he had nursed his first until downing it at the finish. The pair were decently inebriated, leaning against each other as they sought out comfort in the other’s constant presence and contact. 

She was slower to start, savoring the silence between them as they both understood him a little better. He listened for her voice eagerly, just wanting to hear it after so much of his own filling the void around them. After this they should really just listen to music, and he really wanted to hold her. He could feel his muscles twitching, yearning to reach for her. But he wouldn’t move until she did, afraid to break the spell of this moment. And then she started, and he hung onto the cadence of her voice.

“I’m from Texas, actually. Never felt tied to it though. I was adopted too. Can’t say we had the same experiences though. My parents were wonderful, kind, loving people. They encouraged me to be who I was, even helping me find sources of information when I expressed an interest in becoming pagan. I was the shy kid when I was younger, which made it harder to make friends I suppose. By high school I felt a little braver, opened up and made friends. Met my first and last boyfriend when I was sixteen; we dated all the way through graduation. Then I found out I was pregnant, and that led to a road of stress _he_ wasn’t ready to walk so he bailed. I had Aiden when I was nineteen, but my family was so supportive.” She took a deep breath, and he reached for her hand now. He lifted it to his lips and she smiled faintly at the encouragement to keep going.

“Then there was a house fire while I had taken Aiden for a check-up, and I lost them both. Some kind of freak accident with the electric, they’d said. The word lucky was used a lot, but I didn’t think we were but we _really were_. I definitely didn’t think my parents were. I’d lost everything I owned, and everything Aiden owned. But I stayed with some friends, and they helped me rebuild. The life insurance got me a small house to rent, and people donated things to the now orphaned single mom. It wasn’t a bad life, we didn’t struggle as much as we could have. Aiden’s father paid child support when he had a job, and when Aiden turned four back he came. Got back together because that’s what I thought we were supposed to do. I wasn’t unhappy; hell, for a while we were the picture perfect family. It was like that for another three years. Three years, John, then the shit hit the fan so hard. Because luck only favors you so long before it drops you into the dirt to figure out your own shit.”

She pulled from his touch briefly to retrieve her glass, filling it again before she moved back against his side. She drained half the glass before she spoke again, her tone now holding a bitter tone he didn’t think her capable of. “Aiden was seven when he died. We were outside, and I was watering the plants on the porch. And he was such a good boy, he’d always stayed away from the street before. But the one time he stepped too close, he found a hole and fell down onto the asphalt. I heard his yelp, turned around quickly. It was like the world was in slow motion…I saw him rubbing his ankle, but at the same time I could see the car coming. Some asshole, speeding through a neighborhood, phone in hand. And I ran, I shouted for him to move, _move now,_ and he tried… but before he could run, he was gone. Bastard fucking hit my seven year old and just kept right on driving.”

The bitter note had swayed, moving into a resonating sadness that echoed through his soul and into white hot seething. That was a feeling he understood, and he frowned with her. He wouldn’t push questions right now, just let her reveal what she was willing to confess to him in return for his own. There was silence for a moment before she downed the rest of the drink she held and asked him for a cigarette. She puffed at it, her energy a kaleidoscope of colors changing and moving with her words.

“I called 911, and I held him for as long as I could. They took him away, took him to the hospital, but they couldn’t do anything. He was just a child, he had so much life left, and it was just yanked from under him like a bad parlor trick gone south. And the kicker—the driver wasn’t caught and that undid me. I fought it, and I fought anyone who told me to let it go. He was my son, he had a part of my soul. _He was seven._ ” She repeated the phrase a few more times before continuing, shoulders slumping again as she settled on that sadness again. “The first person to leave was Aiden’s father. Then my friends, one by one. My religion was an entirely different ordeal laced throughout the entire pile of burning aftermath my life had become so I gave it up for a long bit of time there.” She was getting quicker in her pacing, having crossed the hardest part for her still.

“I became the town drunk for a while; thought it was better than being the town crazy. Then I became both, which destroyed my last connections. I had a little money saved up, so I left. I wanted to leave everything behind, but a few ghosts followed me across the country. On the move, I rediscovered myself and my faith. Then I met your family. They introduced me to new people, helped me get steady again. I let a lot go with Faith, or so I thought. But every now and then there’s still this surge of rage that rises up and drowns out everything and I want to hurt _someone_ even if its _me_. And that’s something I have struggled with in the past right after the accident, which is why I radioed y’all the other day. And the reason I wanted to tell you was because when we met there was something in your eyes, something that said you would understand. I wanted to tell you because something told me to. And now I just…I don’t want you to leave…”

The tale finished, at least for now, she put out the cigarette and moved to stand in front of him. He leaned forward a bit, head tilting up so he could look into her eyes again. She slowly lifted her hands to his face, fingers running gently along his jawline and through his carefully trimmed beard. He turned slightly, to press a kiss to the palm of her hand before he pressed his cheek into her touch. She watched him with eyes that showed fear and he wanted to erase that. He wished he knew how. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Callie. I promise I’ll stay.” John whispered quietly and a sob ripped its way out of her throat. He guided her down into his lap now, wrapping her up in his arms as tightly as he could. “Hey now, hey now…” He rubbed at her shoulders, doing his best with what he knew, and she gave a shaky little laugh against his neck.

He almost missed her whisper when she spoke again. “I’m sorry, I’m a mess…” 

He gave his own low rumble of laughter, whispering back to her just as quietly. “As am I, so we can just be messes together. At least we’ll be glorious messes.” 

“I’m also really tired now…but not sleepy, just exhausted.” She admitted and he agreed with her silently. He could feel sleep calling to him after having laid bare his soul. He’d do it again in a heart beat. “Can we go lay down in the bed? It’s comfier.”

“You want me to stay with you all night?” John asked, making sure she was okay with it. He didn’t want to cross lines with her, that infernal need to please still nagging at him

“Yes, please.” She answered, and he had to fight back the grin. _She wanted him to stay with her._

“Of course.”

He helped her up and then assisted in the tidying up so they could go to bed; closing windows, turning off lights, and blowing out more candles than he had realized were lit. He let her change for bed while he used the bathroom to change into some sweatpants, forgoing a shirt in favor of being away from her for too long. She opened the bedroom door when he walked out and he couldn’t help but take a moment to take her in. She wore a pair of loose shorts and a tank top, hair loose and tumbling over her shoulders. His eyes traced the lines of the vines crawling up her until he realized she was looking him over now as well. He offered her a smirk and she blushed before she held out her hand for him to take.

And he did. He crossed the gap, lifting his hand to take hers before she could change her mind. He looked around the room briefly, taking in the soft lighting of fairy lights and the furniture around him. He couldn’t make out a lot of details right now as he crawled into the bed, but the moment she crawled in beside him he no longer cared. She curled up against his side and he turned over onto his side to pull her into his arms again. They settled into comfort together, each reveling in the other’s touch and the rhythm of their breathing. Sleep settled over them quickly, John lasting a little longer.

This time when he dreamt, it wasn’t darkness and cold. It’s warm and bright, and he can remember water trailing down lightly over his skin. He could remember the singing of bells and tokens of more symbols he didn’t recognize swaying before his eyes, but when he woke again he felt like he’d crossed oceans in moments.

Opening his eyes brought swirling colors into his view, and he groaned lowly as light settled across him. It was dull compared to his own room though, and he felt a quiet relief chorus through him. He’d drank more last night than he had in a while, but that wasn’t what was getting to him. It’d been the rollercoaster of his life as he talked about it for the first time in extensive clarity. But once again his thoughts slammed in their breaks when he felt the bed shift and he remembered what happened last night. Specifically who he fell asleep with. He turned over slowly, afraid to move and maybe frighten her away. He still wondered when she would realize he was a monster and bolt.

She was lying with her head on the pillow, turned towards him so he could see her sleeping face. Right now was the most relaxed he had ever seen her, eyes closed and hair spread out around her face like sunlight through leaves. He looked past the tattoos this time, to her skin. He could make out freckles dappling her shoulders and thighs. She moved in her sleep, reaching out for him and he quickly offered up his hand. She smiled as she entwined their fingers together, and he looked down at her hands. He could notice faint lines, scars that littered the undersides of her arms and along the insides of her thighs that laced in and out of the tattoos blessing her skin. That meant the scars had come first, and he remembered her words again: _‘I want to hurt someone, even if its me.’_ She had been right, he did understand.

He ran his thumb across her knuckles and she stirred slightly. His eyes traced along her form, along the rises and falls of her chest as she breathed, and along the exposed skin of her hip he could make out stretch marks like tiger stripes. He wanted to reach out and touch her, run his fingertips over every scar and imperfection on her skin that mapped out her own life story. When his eyes finally lifted back up to her face he found she was watching him with half-lidded eyes and a content smile. He offered a slow smile before she leaned into him and kissed him lightly, and he returned it without any hesitation in him. Maybe he was cocky, maybe he was just clingy, but he knew he wouldn’t regret this. He needed that hope to cling to; that he wouldn’t regret whatever this bond was because if that fear managed to slip inside it would tear him apart from the inside out.

But the chaste kiss became more heated as they both felt that sudden grasping need for contact, for some proof that they weren’t alone anymore. He pulled her up onto him so he could achieve his earlier goal to map out her body, fingertips searching every inch of exposed skin he reach. He could feel her hands travelling along his chest as they finally broke for air. They panted together as they exchanged shaky smiles. He looked down to watch her trace the tattoos covering him, noticing that she lingered on any he’d done in misdirected anger towards himself. The skin under the ink had scarred and resulted in a raised texture, little ridges of hatred that littered his skin. The hands resting on her hips lowered to her thighs, and his thumbs brushed over the mixed texture of fine-barely-there cross-hatched with thicker scars. They didn’t break eye contact as they laid bare their hidden secrets to each other. It was so easy to communicate with her without words and it helped him to explain himself better than he could hope to with words. Feelings were always more complicated than words could ever hope to convey. And for a just a moment he didn’t have to trip and stumble over what he was trying to say. He knew by her eyes she could translate: _“I know this wrath. I know this hurt.”_

There was no tension between them as she sat across his lap as they took in the other, but he was sure she could tell he was definitely not opposed to their current situation. But again, there was a new aspect he wasn’t used to. Actually there were several. Top of the list was intimacy. He’d had flings over the years, a lot of hook ups that never resulted in anything. Though is he was honest with himself, he’d poisoned most of those prospects before they’d ever had a chance to so much as sprout. Because sex was fun but ultimately he had always kept it separated from romance. And the prospect of romance was exciting enough that there was no rush to push past boundaries she might have had. The prospect of romance was also overwhelming in little breaths as he considered how he had always punished himself for attachments. 

The time came to break the silence and he fought himself to speak, to tell her what he was thinking. “You’re beautiful.” John finally whispered, delighted when she blushed brightly.

“Not so bad yourself.” Callie replied, and he could still hear the remnants of sleep clutching to the words she was quick to offer him.

“Oh you most definitely don’t need to reassure me of that. I know I’m nice to look at.” He countered, cocking an eyebrow at her before she burst into laughter before slapping lightly at his chest. He watched the way the corner of her eyes crinkled with amusement and he lifted his hands up to cradle her face as he sat up and kissed her again. This time he made sure to put every thing he meant behind the tender action. When he broke away she tried to chase him again and he hummed. “But you are a painting that walked right off a canvas in the finest gallery, Calista Greene. I mean that.”

She was silent for so long he briefly worried he’d crossed some unseen line again and his brain started forming ways to retract what he’d said when he realized her eyes were on his every action. He froze up again, awaiting judgement before it was received in the form of her wrapping her arms around his neck. When she pulled him into a tight hug, he pushed his face into the crook of her neck and held onto her tight. When she gave a small shiver and a wiggle to his breath on her neck, he took the moment to press a light kiss to her skin and he could feel her pulse dancing along his lips. He tested the waters as he began to leave a trail of kisses up to her jawline and she sighed as she leaned into his every touch. 

She wiggled again in his lap, grinding lightly against him and it drew a soft hiss from his lips. He nipped at the skin along her neck now, and when she shivered again at a certain point he back tracked to it and sucked the skin there into his mouth until he could heard her give a soft moan. He continued on his path, placing soft marks in his wake when the chorus of her voice was broken by the static woven sound of his brother’s voice from the radio beside her bed.

 _“Ms. Greene, is John out there with you?”_

The abrupt voice jerked them from their little moment and he gave a heavy sigh as he dropped back onto the bed once more. He wanted to ignore it, and he pleaded with his eyes for her to do the same. But she gave him an apologetic look before she reached for the radio to respond.

“Yes Joseph, he is. Did you need him for anything?” Callie asked, still perched in his lap. Though it did bring a swell of pride to him when he heard her so breathless.

 _“Not entirely. I wanted to make sure he had made it last night, and to let him know that we will be leaving soon. And to let you know that the both of you are more than welcome to join us.”_ The words carried the tone of concern well, along with that needling reminder that he would have to eventually go to church at least once.

“Thank you, Joseph. If we decide to go, I’m sure we can get there ourselves.” She responded, and John grinned a little bit more. She didn’t want to go either, and that gave him the excuse he needed to keep procrastinating that particular jump. Maybe he could put it off again until the next week. Maybe she’d be willing to go to help give him the strength he needed to get through it.

_“But of course. Take good care of him. Perhaps I shall see you soon.”_

“May you have blessed travels today, and may your words carry to someone that needs them.” Callie said the words, and with the way they flowed he knew they were a prayer. “May you heal souls today. Blessed be.”

_“You are too kind. Have a wonderful day, Ms. Greene…and John, if you are staying out again please let us know.”_

And just as quickly as it started, it was done. There was silence again and after a minute they were both back under the blankets and in each other’s arms as they lazed about in a peace he never thought he could reach. The moment of passion slipped past them, and there was no frustration with that. He was sure there would be another. For now, more sleep and maybe some food sounded good. He could worry about the rest of the world when they awoke again.


	6. Sins Left Unspoken

Joseph fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, not really paying attention but his fingers were twitchy and he needed to do something with them. He stared at his reflection absently, his mind a million miles away. And not on the words he was about to speak; no, sermons were second nature now, an action that brought him comfort and momentary peace. His mind was on his younger brother, whom he’d just had a conversation with about giving him space. He’d reluctantly agreed, a desperate desire burning in him to keep his family close— _to never let them go again._ Even if it meant keeping secrets, even if it meant not telling them everything. As long as he didn’t lie, sparing them more emotional unrest wouldn’t be held against him.

Though he _had lied_ and he _still lied_ every single day. Every moment since Faith had joined them, he had lied to all of them. But that lie hadn’t been for them, it’d been for himself. He was selfish, he was greedy. The subject he was looking forward to discussing today because he needed the reminder: he’d have to come clean soon.

But John’s words of request for space, for time, reminded him that he too was healing. He was taking time and there shouldn’t been any shame in that, despite the fact it’d been a few years now. He frowned slightly, the corners of his lips drawing down before he heard joyous laughter and felt light, birdlike arms wrap around his arm. He was quick to smile, to turn and face the source of that overbearing guilt in his bones.

“You’ve been buttoning that same button for ten minutes. Is there something on your mind, big brother?” Faith asked him, her voice light and flitting like chimes. She was a lot like her mother, but she’d be loathe to hear it. Even if he meant all the best things, before he messed it all up. He pushed the thought away with the smile he offered her.

“I’m just worried, is all. Our brother has been distant, and my hovering has not helped mend those frayed edges.” Joseph provided something believable, covering up his own uneasiness and she gave a bright smile— _her smile_ —and now he felt envy. Envy that she found smiling so easy, and shortly after the feeling of shame flooded through him. When she spoke again, it pushed the thoughts back.

 _“Love is patient and kind.”_ She started, knowing he couldn’t help but finish the verse.

 _“It does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant._ You are the only one that listens to my sermons, aren’t you?” He offered as she slipped from his arm, twirling idly from side to side dancing to music only she could hear. A joyful tune he had no hope of hearing just yet.

“You know I’m not the only one. Jacob understands the meaning behind your words. And John will understand when he’s ready.” She countered, soothing his ego before it could bruise. She was so thoughtful, so kind. There was pride there now, swelling in his chest as he smiled genuinely finally. This was a pride that he could handle. “If anyone can truly help him, it’s Callie.” She finished and he was brought back to reality like a stone.

It hurt him to be reminded that he wasn’t the one who could heal his brother. “And why do you say that?” His tone reflected his curiousity, and he could see the twinkle of truth in her eyes.

“Because they’re a lot alike. You just have to listen, watch how they move. They’re like open books, ready to be read and understood. Everyone is. But books can’t tell you until you’ve reached the right page.” She explained, eyes suddenly sharp. She had always been good at gathering information, breaking the codes of people almost immediately upon meeting them. “If they can just see each other in the other, I think they’ll finally understand all of themselves. Like looking in a mirror and realizing you have scars you never noticed before; seeing the damage means you can heal it.”

“Where is it you find your words?” He asked, honestly interested in the response he would get. He knew where he found his; he lived and breathed the source, clinging to his scriptures like they were the only steady anchor in the rapids of life.

She smiled again, lifting her hands to pluck something invisible to him from the air. “Hanging in the air, like sentiments left unsaid—frozen there in the wind, ready to be heard and said.”

It brought a smile to Joseph’s lips, a lighthearted laugh falling from them shortly after. “Like poetry, sister. Shall we go? I’m sure Jacob is getting fussy by now.”

“I take it you found John. I’m sure he’ll be back tonight.” Faith responded, ignoring his statement on Jacob but gliding closer to the exit as he began gathering his things.

He replied absently, another flash of guilt setting in before he had the few sparing things he required for the day. “Yes, yes he should be. You’re right.”

An irritated disembodied voice flew up the stairs towards them and he couldn’t stop from grinning now. “We’re gonna miss your own damn sermon if we don’t get a move on!” Jacob was right on time, just as he always was. Joseph moved forward now, standing tall again as he headed down to join his brother, their “sister” following after them. His family was finally in one place, and he still felt alone.

Arriving at the church was always a special time for him, especially on Sundays. More people attended, and each of them offered warmth and compassion to everyone else that attended. He always thought it was the most beautiful thing, humanity coming together under an unspoken love for one another. It was unspoken because it didn’t need saying; it was there in the greetings he got to witness, the children running to meet with their friends and catch up, in the smiles of everyone as they filed into pews. They sat with neighbors, with strangers, not a one of them a foe to the other. 

And he could feel their faith flow through them here, as he stood at the head of the room, waiting for everyone to settle so patiently. _Love is patient._ He strung words together in his mind as silence settled over the room. He greeted everyone, beginning with a prayer before he told them the page as Faith, perched at the piano, began playing from the set of hymns they’d chosen together earlier in the week. He closed his eyes, listening to the turning of pages mixing with the soothing notes--twisting with the words he knew by heart. And when voices joined his, he felt a peace settle over him. He could feel God here, in this room with all of them, and they were loved and safe. That light inside that had been briefly flickering earlier lit up and he felt complete once more. 

The sermon helped to lift his spirits again so for a brief amount of time he could pretend he was as level headed as he’d like to be. He spoke on greed and envy and he could feel his words reaching ears and touching hearts. In those brief moments he felt important, he felt that purpose in him again when he first felt his faith spark up in the pits of his own darkness. And he was glad he could help guide those that got lost like he and his own had been for so long. 

It also distracted him for most of the day, spending time after church to talk to those that came seeking advice or words of peace. He made plans to visit others, offers to help with bake sales and any charity he could fathomably handle added to his plate. Quite a few prayers were shared, so many hands clasped between his. It at times became a blur as he sought out help to provide, and before long he was riding in the truck with his family to the closest diner as was per their tradition. The air among them was bright and sparkling with the radio, glimmering with joy as he and Faith tried their best to get Jacob to sing along with them. They succeeded, just barely, and he gave them a few lines before locking back down with a broad grin.

There hadn’t been time to dwell on any hidden feelings as he rode the wave of happiness they brought him. Faith was a bright soul, finding beauty in any storm clouds that came their way despite her own dark past. Jacob was quieter, calmer—but he was level headed in his own affection, making sure they ate. This was the one day Jacob was a little more lenient in his own chores, but when they got home he’d disappear into some kind of work before dinner. Faith was quicker to follow him, and he supposed they were closer due to that. In these moments, he could forget about details that may bring down his carefully laid plans and just think about his family as they were in the moment.

And those thoughts might have been pleasant, if it weren’t for the fact that on their drive home his thoughts turned onto the only member missing. But John was still a mystery in his own right. Joseph had never really known him sober, as the younger hadn’t written back until he was in college and well into his fascination with inebriation. But Joseph couldn’t judge, not in the slightest, as he had had his own vices to overcome. 

Back home, he had time before dinner. Faith went off to visit Calista, and most likely to collect John for dinner this evening. She knew he was anxious about the other’s distance, worried he’d jerk out of reach again. And if he did that, who knows if he could find him again—and the possibility ate at his sanity. Not for the first time he tried to consider how John felt, how he functioned, and it was so alien to him. Where he had pulled others in constantly, drowning them in misplaced affection until they fled—John pushed and pushed and kept others so far away that he balked at any kindness offered to him. 

The more he considered it, the more complex it became for him until he almost unraveled where he was pacing a hole into the porch. The sun was still high up, and he didn’t expect anyone back home for a while. But the grumbled greeting from Jacob almost made him jump out of his skin, and when he turned to meet the taller brother’s eyes he knew he was in trouble. The other was watching Joseph carefully, eyes tracking his ever twitching muscle and he froze up. The other gave a frown and shook his head briefly before he stepped around him to go into the house. 

He returned shortly with a beer bottle and a glass of tea. He offered the tea before dropping himself down into a chair outside with a low groan. Joseph settled down across from him, drinking at the cold liquid with a decisive slowness. _He had to tell him, he already knew there was something._

They sat in silence as he let his thoughts settle in. He honestly expected the other to pry but he waited patiently—eyes still watching, still tracking. He had the brief realization that this was how deer must feel, haunted but never quite expecting the end they get as they watch the wolf that’s revealed itself. “So you gonna spill or do I gotta dig in my heels?” Jacob’s words were the unexpected attack, the one that came from behind. _It’s now or never. Say it once, and it’ll be easier to say again._

“Faith’s not our sister.” Joseph answered, eyes dropping. That still wasn’t what he’d meant to say and he squared himself back up, watching down the drive cautiously now.

“Well no shit. That story you always tell us doesn’t add up. Would’ve met her when you were what…twenty-one, twenty two maybe? You weren’t in the system anymore, no more foster families.” Jacob responded quickly enough, before taking a generous swig from the bottle in his hand. “So what is she?”

Joseph took a deep breath, pulling the words from where he’d buried them deep in his chest. “She’s…my daughter.” He hadn’t meant to be that quiet, but he was heard regardless. He watched surprise settle across his features before realization set in. Then Jacob merely shrugged and he was once again flabbergasted at the other’s acceptance.

“Huh…can’t say I was expecting that. But that _at least_ makes some sense.” Jacob explained without being asked, a laugh hidden in the words that you could find if you looked. “I mean, nothing wrong with that. Just, why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because her mother was a married woman, and it wasn’t to me.” He gave the easiest explanation, as he was still rather confused by the rest of them. Why had he kept it? To protect himself from the memories that bond could bring forth? A fear of the past, of himself? Now that he thought about it, the more he could admit he was afraid he might fall into the darkness again—he could lose his light, that anchor in the churning waters. “Because its shameful and I’ve lied about it for so long it became a bad habit.” _Because the last time he’d had a daughter, he’d lost her. What if he loses Faith too?_

He was pulled out of his thoughts that had begun consuming him when he felt Jacob’s hand on his shoulder. He looked up at the other, found peace in the grounded man at his side. “Past is the past, Joseph. Lingering don’t help, that’s what you told me. You gonna tell her?” That question got him up and pacing again though, pulling away from Jacob and into himself until his hand found the cross around his neck.

The answer was obvious, it was right there. He couldn’t keep this up or it would break him, but admitting it could too if his worst fears came to life. If he was rejected, thrown out, for running from someone he should been there for. “I have to, don’t I?” He sounded lost to even himself, and his eyes lifted from the horizon of the drive to the sky above. He walked to the railing, eyes cast up as he scanned the skies for some kind of sign but there wasn’t a cloud in sight. That should bring him peace, but instead it stirred up a storm inside of him.

“No one’s saying you have to do anything but you. Sister, niece, whatever she is I’ll still fuck someone up if they so much as look at her wrong.” Jacob answered from behind him, and he laughed quietly as he finally pulled away from the mass of blue above them to his brother once more. “But I think you should tell John.” The statement left Joseph a wash of confusing emotions, but he let himself fall into his curiousity this time.

“I’m sorry, but I’m curious.” He started, head tilting as the question came off his tongue. “Why him and not her?” He wasn’t expecting the look of honesty Jacob gave him as he met his eyes and locked on. He was making sure his younger brother was listening to him.

“Because I don’t think the truth will phase Faith; she still loves you, she’s still our family. And you accepted her when everyone she ever knew threw her into the dirt and told her that’s where she belongs. Maybe some of that will make sense for her, some…thing she hasn’t talked about. Hell, maybe she already knows. But she’ll work through her shit with less anger. She knows you’re a good person, Joseph. We all do. But John…” Jacob said it all as if it made perfect sense, and maybe it did. Maybe he was too wrapped up in himself with this revelation, already worrying about reactions he hadn’t reasonably been considering. “John thinks you’re untouchable. This’ll knock you off that pedestal he put you on and even the playing field. But if just telling him bugs you altogether, tell them together. Now’s a good chance, cause they’re coming down the drive now.”

The warning was short, and when he jumped to turn around he heard Jacob laughing. He could just make out a pair of horses meandering closer to them in no particular rush. He could feel the light hearted energy rolling off them from here and he could feel himself smiling in spite of his own troubles.

 _‘Even amidst my darkest storm, there is sunshine all around.’_ He thought with a hum, shoving everything back down inside of him for another day. He chose to head inside and start on dinner while Faith and John put up and fed the horses. Jacob followed him though, waiting silently for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. “I will tell them, I promise. But not tonight.”

“Why not?” Jacob asked, voice low so there wasn’t a chance anyone would overhear them. He was in this hole now too and that added a sprinkle of guilt to the giant pile; dirt meant to fill in a grave from the past he wasn’t ready to part with yet. And now he had company. More reason to tell them sooner, but he was selfish.

“Because John is shining, Faith is singing, and I will not snuff that out. It can wait.” Joseph answered, always ready with an excuse.

Jacob watched him long and hard, staring him down before he shrugged finally. A battle for another day. “You know, I’m not good with words and feelings. But Calista is. Remember that. I’ll drop it for now.” Then he turned to start setting the table for Joseph as the door opened and finally the family was all together again.

Dinner would have been considered uneventful if it hadn’t been for the fact that John talked more than he had at any family dinner since he’d been home. He’d crack jokes before, even providing his own opinion occasionally. But the youngest of the three brothers had never once taken control of the conversation from the start. He wondered if it was just a sudden break in his shell or if he had just come home in a good mood. Maybe Faith had been right, and Calista was just what he needed—a mirror of himself to look into like she said.

He pushed his wonderments aside so he could let himself be amazed by John talking about the things he’d seen and done today. Apparently when Faith joined him earlier, the two had gone on a ride around the area before returning home. He’d requested to see the see the river nearest them, something about a dream he had. He’d come home awestruck and having found some piece he was missing, and the effects were visible and blindly bright as he shone brilliantly for them. There was no telling how long it would last, or if he would ever explain to them what had happened while he was gone.

But one thing was decided for him—Joseph wasn’t about to weigh them down. Not now, not tonight. He would soon, he was sure of that. But he could feel Jacob’s eyes on him occasionally, and he’d turn to meet him each time. A calming, reassuring smile across his features. Someone knew now, and that meant he had someone to talk to. It also meant it would be easier to say it again. It wouldn’t make him feel like he was drowning to get the words out. Even if that thought of keeping his brother in the dark at his side was just as bad.

And just maybe, he should also pay a visit to Calista like Jacob had not so subtly suggested. He’d never sought her out before, always finding her in his company of her own volition. He’d asked her to listen to his sermons before, and she had always been helpful with helping him form his words correctly. Maybe she’d be willing to help him figure out how to word that truth he needed to admit.

But despite those concerns which he could push back again, once more to the back burner to simmer as he waited for the perfect moment. He was always waiting for the perfect moment, for a voice inside him to tell him he was ready. But he was content in that knowledge for now.

A few more days wouldn’t hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Character shift. This will happen occasionally, as I feel I've established John. He's still the main character, but this is a story about everyone healing together.


	7. Revolving Radiance

For as long as she could remember, Faith had been able to figure people out. She figured it had something to do with growing up in a home where she felt she didn’t belong. Always watching for signs of anger or tension, both common things directed at her in a day. Even if she wasn’t the source she had been the verbal punching bag. But if she could track their feelings, track their movements, the twitching of muscles or the beginnings of a popping vein, then she could hide. She could hide and be safe and if she was lucky it passed over her. But that was then, and this is now. And now she didn’t have to hide or worry about balancing fear with a fake smile. 

But she still watched. She had watched Joseph stare at his reflection, anxious fingers twitching as he checked every button over subconsciously. His lips moved occasionally, soft words he wasn’t aware he was whispering to himself. And not for the first time since she moved to Montana she felt like he was hiding something from her—from all of them, but definitely from her. She could always feel his trepidation, dancing along his limbs like a shaky vibration of an aura. No doubt about it, Joseph was lying about something. But she had smiled regardless, pushing any thoughts on the matter aside as she let it go. Because if anyone could understand _lying_ it was her.

She pulled him from his thoughts, something she did for each of her brothers, with kind words of encouragement. Joseph was worried about John, of course he was. He was prone to worrying ceaselessly about them all when they weren’t in his sight. It wasn’t a control thing though, no that was John. Joseph clung because he was scared of loss. She wondered why on the ride to church, before she intentionally switched her thoughts to the words she’d offered Joseph on their estranged brother.

She had meant them. Faith tried to only say things she meant with every bit of her soul. Its why her words warbled and her tones constantly changed. She couldn’t promise things she wasn’t sure about but she could speculate openly; she could tell what she thought on anything and that would always be true. She didn’t lie anymore, not since she’d changed her name to sever all connections she had with Rachel Jessop. 

She was quick to drop her thoughts when they arrived at the church. She flitted around, greeting anyone her eyes settled on. Her hands dusted along arms, took outstretched hands, accepted hugs; she was open to them and they were open to her. She never had a sense of community growing up, but here she did and she thrived on it. She followed Joseph’s example often, taking steps to sow seeds of kindness around her at every chance she could.

Joseph’s words were always wonderful, but her favorite part was the singing. She helped her brother pick the hymns each time, and finally her piano lessons came to use. She was glad now that she could play the piano with joy and love and not as a way to escape, another way to hide from everything. Another tainted memory had been cleansed, and all that remained was a pure, soft light that lit up the room. She played the notes across the pages, singing along with Joseph. Like him, she had everything so engrained into her she could take her eyes off herself. But she watched the room, almost able to visualize the bond woven through the room. She could feel His presence among them and it made her feel whole. When the music stopped and she watched the room, she could see that woven fabric swell and transcend into a wave, crashing across the room as Joseph spoke. 

Her eyes settled on Jacob, sitting frozen and straight backed in the first pew. She wished he could see what she did, that she had a way to manifest it for him; maybe he’d feel more at ease among the crowd. For now, she fluttered to the eldest Seeds side and she felt him melt beside her in the pew. He was always more comfortable with someone he knew near him. They said nothing to each other, eyes turned to Joseph for the rest of his sermon.

When everything was finished, as Joseph moved around to fill his schedule for the next week, she stayed by Jacob’s side. He grumbled to himself a few times, like a low growl of warning from a wolf with its hackles raised. She lifted her hand, settled it on his shoulder, and he calmed down before he looked to her. “I don’t like crowds.” His voice was low, gruff, and unexpected. Faith turned to beam up at him.

“I know.” She soothed him with a soft voice before she thought for a minute, watching the way he watched her in turn. They both knew how to analyze people, how to gather information without having to ask. “Would you like to go wait outside? You know he’s going to be a little while.” She felt this fact might have been part of what formed their bond.

“Yeah.” He responded, before turning to the exit. She waited where she was for a bit, expecting him to leave her there like he normally did. Instead he turned to her and jerked his head toward the doors. “You coming?”

She lit up, quick to flicker to his side. “Of course!” They headed outside, towards the truck. He dug through his pockets, retrieving a cigarette. He lit it and leaned against the truck, watching the doors for their brother. She took the moment to look around her, at the wildflowers surrounding the church. She plucked a few, before moving quickly to perch herself on the hood with a grin that dared Jacob to tell her to get down. Instead he gave a short laugh, called her a ‘damn bird’, and returned to watching the doors.

She took the time she had to weave a flower crown, humming quietly along to the hymns still playing in her head as her fingers nimbly braided the stems. When she’d connected it she gave a satisfied sound, a sigh that slipped past her lips barely garnering Jacob’s attention before she leaned over and placed the flower crown on top of his head. The colors complimented the red of his hair, and she nodded appreciatively. She gave a laugh as he turned to look at her, his face a blank slate that contrasted with the bright yellows and blues she’d picked. He said nothing as he lifted it off his own head and placed it on her head instead. The silent gesture held a lot of symbolism she knew he’d never speak: _Thank you._ That was Jacob’s thing, less words more actions and a hero at heart. She smiled, content with the exchange, and they sat in silence until Joseph finally stepped through the doors.

Just like every week, they drove to the nearest diner. They ate lunch and went home. Jacob went straight to work as soon as he changed, heading off to the barn. Joseph seemed a million miles away, so she opted to go get John, maybe visit with Callie for a little bit if she got there in time. 

She dashed to her room, changing into jeans and a white flowery blouse. She found her boots before she tied her light brown hair up and floated along to the barn after her elder brother. She could hear soft music from the back of the building, the side door open. He must be working on the tractor, or some other farming equipment. He was meticulous about machine maintenance so it didn’t surprise her. She slipped out the opposite way, into the paddock attached to the side. 

She was met with gentle nickering as the horses looked to her. She crooned softly as a pale grey mare approached her, the horse that was always quick to her call. “Hello Rosemary, hello sweet girl. Would you like to go for a ride? We’ll see Sage.” Faith kept talking, thought she really didn’t have to. Once she had run her hands along her neck and down her side, the mare was ready to follow her wherever. She led her along to retrieve her saddle and bridle.

It didn’t take long for them to set out along the familiar route. Her steed was light in her gait, neither one of them in a rush. Each of them were eager to look around on their way, taking in their surroundings quietly. She sang softly as they reached the lake, crossing one of the rivers that flowed into it, and headed on a now clear cut path. One maintained for horses or ATVs, or maybe a motorbike if you were brave. The horse knew the way from here, and she was surprised when she could see another horse heading down the pathway towards her. She recognized the rider and grinned as she waved.

“Faith! What the hell are you doing out here?” John called, voice genuinely surprised as their mounts stopped to greet each other. She ignored the animals though, immediately settling her gaze on him. She tried to decipher him, but he always proved harder to figure out than Jacob or Joseph. He kept everything hidden under a surface of reflective glass, and sometimes when he was comfortable, you could see through it to how he was really feeling.

But she was surprised to find there was no glass, no shell of protection this time. He was shining brightly, like a darkness had been lifted from him. Some of his own tainted memories were cleansed it seemed, and it brought a smile to her now. “I came to get you, brother. Why else would I be here, beyond seeing my friend?” She knew Callie and John would connect, that her best friend and her brother could pull each other finally from the dark. There would be so much more they would have to face, she was sure. But for now, that glimmering silver light tracing his features would be enough.

The shimmer darkened, faded briefly as his face fell suddenly. “Did Joseph send you?” John’s words were guarded, a barely there bitterness breaking through.

She shook her head, maintaining eye contact with him. Drawing his focus back onto the now, onto the lingering glow of bliss he’d held. “Not at all. I sent me.”

He watched her now, eyes careful before he spoke; thin ice, touched blue and crispy, ready to break under too much pressure. “Oh…well, good.” The threatening cracks dissipated and he relaxed again. He wanted freedom, wanted space, wanted time. Joseph didn’t do time well, they both knew that. But her promise that she came of her own free will seemed to reassure him that their brother was at least trying. “Hey, can you take me down the river?”

The question surprised her, and she tilted her head slightly. She turned to look in the direction she came from and thought about how long it would take, how far they could go today. “I’m sure I could. It’s a very pretty trail ride.” She plotted out the perfect path, seeing it on the vague map she kept in her mind. She looked back at him and nodded, before asking her own question. “Any reason why?” She always liked asking him questions. He was eager to answer, though he acted like he loathed it.

John blanched at the question, an expression of mock anger formed before his own confusion leaked through. “I had a dream. I think I’m supposed to find something--somewhere? Or maybe it was just a dream but…maybe it wasn’t.” He was a kaleidoscope of colors and feelings, always changing and twisting. “And I don’t know, it sounds right? That make any sense?”

Faith nodded, quick to understand. Going on a whim, on a voice silently guiding you. She could understand that. “Plenty. Follow us.” And she turned Rosemary around, humming quietly as she led him back along to the river, across it and down a trail she took often.

They traveled in silence mostly, John eventually moving Sage up so they were in the same pace. She loved quiet moments with her brothers, but she hadn’t really had the chance to get many of them with him. He was the closest to her in age, the youngest of the brothers. Despite his teasing and his pushing, she stood firm in her opinion of him. And eventually, he stopped pushing as hard. He let her ask questions, and like Jacob he would answer them or he wouldn’t, but his definitions of boundaries were far looser. 

He would talk about himself, in fact he loved the subject. But he hid self-deprecation in his egocentric mannerisms all the time. He wasn’t as guarded as he thought he was though, but she also knew he was trying to be more open. _Because living behind a wall is lonely and it aches and you want to share but for so long to be safe meant to be hidden._ It was a striking comparison to Joseph as well, that he loved to talk about anything other than himself. He also liked to help, while John held his motives close to his chest until he deemed it time to tell you. They were all so different, and her mannerisms always switching and shifting around each of them so they were always comfortable. The chameleon like habit of blending in was a hard one for her to break, but she was never untruthful about anything she felt.

When he stopped, she took in their surroundings. They were on a slight ridge, the river down below them but not far--just enough that they could get a good view across it to one of the many tiny islands that dotted several rivers that flowed through their fair county. She hummed quietly, a tune for the wind to carry away as she basked in the beauty of this place. Her concentration shattered, jagged cracks across her mind, when John finally spoke from beside her. “We should get Jacob a dog.” 

She giggled now, soft bursts of laughter bubbling through her. “That’s sudden.”

John let himself laugh now, shaking his head. “Best way to start a conversation is to say a thought. Am I wrong?”

She shook her head, stilling grinning. Her eyes were drawn from the view to him, observing his movements. “No, but technically I believe that’s just talking in general.” His eyes stayed locked onto the horizon, on that little island in the middle of the lazy river. Eyes scanning, searching for something she couldn’t see. _How odd._

“You got me on a technicality, but I’m right. We should get Jacob a dog.” He answered, still in a pleasant mood. That silver shimmer surrounding him was stunning as he spoke, explaining his thoughts finally. “It’ll give him something to hover over, something to talk to when he goes dangerous and quiet in his head. You’ve seen it too, right? He’ll just stare into space, and somehow trying to pull him out feels…wrong.” He asked, finally breaking away to meet her eyes. To prove he was serious; he felt the need to prove himself a lot, she noted. “I can’t see what he’s seeing. Those are his ghosts. But he’s always looked after us, always tried…even when we weren’t fucking there. So we should get him a dog, someone he might stand a chance at connecting to.”

“You’ve clearly been thinking about this for a while. But I have to say I agree. He’s there, then he’s gone and on the thin line of panic so suddenly. His edges are all jagged, flashing red and orange and bloody.” She could picture Jacob in her head, pupils pinpricks as he stares off into his own world. He would shake sometimes, like he was so afraid, and she always felt like pulling him out too suddenly would send him running. “But yes, I’ve seen what you mean.”

John nodded along, quiet for another long moment, before his face contorted in anxiety again. “You think he’d be mad if we got him a dog?” She tilted her head, considering it carefully, before she shook her head.

“No. If he won’t kill me over a flower crown, he won’t be mad at you over a kind thought.” She answered, lifting and dropping the tone of her words into a singsong trill again. She knew he wasn’t sure what she was referring to, but she was sure he had the imagination to piece it together close enough. “I think he’d be excited. He’s not good with words, with expressing his feelings, but you don’t need to talk to a dog. And if you do, they aren’t very likely to talk back and confuse you.”

This relaxed him again, and he turned back to look down at the island again. “Alright, guess we’ll talk on that more tomorrow. Maybe talk to Joseph too.” And with that, the topic was dismissed, but a new one was brought up briefly, “We’re here, by the way.” She could see confusion and acceptance light across his features. Whatever he’d been looking for he must have located.

“Here where?” She asked, turning to look at the scene before them again. The clouds parted briefly, and a beam of light shone down on the island they were watching.

It took awhile before he answered, his tone thoughtful and low. Decidedly different than his usual defensive one. “Where I dreamed about. I don’t have a lot to go off really, it was more feelings and sensations. But I’m pretty sure I need to bring Callie here.” And with that, he turned Sage around so they could head back the way they came once more.

“Why?” She asked, Rosemary automatically following along behind him.

“A baptism of sorts. For me. Something symbolic, and not necessarily religious.” John answered, shrugging after a minute. His words caught her off guard, and she found herself smiling again. He was always full of surprises, and with that glass barrier down she could see he was definitely lighter than when he’d first come home. She’s been watching him slowly unburden himself, becoming comfortable with his own being and his family. “Come on, let’s go home before our brothers worry themselves into a hole.”

When they got home, the air between the two of them was light and sparkling, but inside the house it was calmer and achingly quiet until John started talking. She caught exchanges between Jacob and Joseph, and she knew in an instant whatever Joseph had been keeping from them Jacob now knew. Curious. Sometimes it took some time to say something. She would wait, and he would tell her when they were both ready to hear it. She trusted him, she had to because if she didn’t that would break her. She’d never been able to trust until she came here, _until she came home._ But she reminded herself that he was her brother, he would never harm her. _He never has before, why would he now?_

But once more, she pushed it off, and ignored it in favor of the warmer colors radiating from John. He was shining, shimmering silver dancing along the walls, hands lifted and moving as he spoke. He talked with his hands just like Joseph did, and Faith found that amusing. Though John might not if he knew. But his eyes sparked with new energy, some sort of revived feeling like faith in him. It was enough to distract, to distract them all really. But nobody was smiling more at John finally opening up than Joseph, and she felt like the day was finally complete.

Today had gone well, she thought. And for a moment she closed her eyes and prayed for everyday from now on to be just as warm and bright.


	8. Reliving Terror-visions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains a detailed, graphic panic attack caused by an auditory trigger. If you'd like to skip it, I've marked the beginning and end of it with the a set of double asterisks **like this**. Be careful, readers. Take care of yourself.

Jacob Seed woke up before his alarm, just like he always did. He sat up in bed, turning off the alarm before it blared throughout the room needlessly. Or worse, he forgot about it and it caught him off guard. And the fear of being thrown back into his head for too long was enough to make sure he _never_ forgot. He was out of bed and dressed in moments, a habit that he gained from the military and had clung closely to since.

He moved downstairs, to the kitchen, as soundlessly as he could. No one woke up as early as he did, and he wasn’t going to drag them out of bed yet. Besides, he had work he could do before they even stirred, and after that he would have a handle on who he would need to help him with what or if he even needed any help at all. He could do without people in a day and be fine, unlike the rest of his family. The thought made him appreciate that Sunday had passed, and he didn’t have to worry about crowds or watching his back while watching Joseph’s because _he never thinks he needs to; but you ALWAYS need to_ —he slammed the brakes down, focusing back on what he was doing with a low grunt. Something he was in control of, a sound he could make to bring him back to reality.

 _Today was Monday, his favorite day of the week._ Though he supposed that put him at odds with the rest of society at the start. He liked Monday because it meant his schedule restarted, his routine was back in place, and it meant no more crowds for the rest of the week. He could relax they way he preferred, getting right back to work. He made himself some breakfast, eating quickly before he headed out to the barn. First things first, he’d make sure all four horses were there like he usually did. He doubted they’d managed to break themselves free from the barn, but you could _never_ be too sure. He’d feed them then he’d go through another routine check on the tractor, before he’d groom the horses one by one and put them into the paddock. He’d be able to check for any wounds—there would be none—and talk to them for a while. He liked their company; they understood, and they didn’t interrupt. 

Each horse was led out of its stall quietly, and taken care of with gentle hands. He started with the paint, Peyote, his own favorite. Spirited and quirky, always trying to get the others to run with her. She liked to race and work, and so did Jacob. Next was Sage, the dark brown gelding that had taken a shine to John. It was calmer, gentler, a lover and not a fighter he’d say. A contrast to John’s constant simmering anger. The pale grey mare came next; her name was Rosemary, and she was sweeter than sugar. It made sense to him that she seemed to like Faith’s singsong words. The last was a white stallion, Joseph’s own horse and the first horse they got: Zephyr. He was patient, kind, good with people. Again, it made sense. Once they were all out in the paddock again, he headed back to the house. Everyone should be up and getting ready by now.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he walked back into the house, but it definitely hadn’t been the obvious lack of the truck. He must have been more absorbed in his thoughts than he realized again. A note, folded neatly into a tent on the table, with his name scrawled airily across the front of it. _Faith._ He picked it up curiously, opening it with a quirked eyebrow.

 _‘Dearest Jacob, we had some errands to run. Joseph has a bake sale to help with, and asked us to go to the store in his place. I know you don’t like people, so I took John. Promise we’ll be back soon, radio if you need us. Love, Faith.’_ He smiled a bit at the Os circling his name, which she had told him meant ‘hugs’. She was open in her affection and her admiration, and he tolerated it because it meant that he at least was a protector to her. His brothers may not see him as such now, and he couldn’t blame them. He got them separated, he tore their world apart. When he felt the paper in his hand crumble in his clenched fist he jumped back out of it, taking the time to smooth the note back out the best he could. He picked it back up, held delicately by the corners, before he folded it neatly and slipped it into his shirt pocket.

Today was an alone day. He could handle that. _Of course he could handle that._ He stopped on the porch to breathe deeply, before he rooted around his various pockets for his pack of cigarettes. He lit one, before shrugging and heading back to the paddock to retrieve Peyote. He’d go check fence lines again, maybe take his own ride along a trail. Hearing John and Faith talk about their ride yesterday reminded him he should do so as well. He snorted, knowing fully well he probably wouldn’t ride past the property line today. It wasn’t safe, not in their county; the rest of the family may forget the rest of the wildlife that lived here with them but he didn’t. He couldn’t. 

As he reached the paddock, he dropped the smoldering cigarette butt to the dirt and stomped it out. He waited a second before he bent down to retrieve it, Faith’s usual reprimands for the action echoing in his head. He stepped through and called Peyote to him with a trilling whistle; she looped around the enclosure at least once before coming eagerly to him. She knew she was going out, so she wouldn’t dance away from him for too long. She moved closer, pushing her face towards his, and he pressed his forehead against hers without a second thought. “Yeah, yeah. You like me, I get it. Come on, wild girl. Let’s go for a ride.” He led her back into the barn to get her ready and then off they went. 

He let her run for a little bit, but eventually he reined her back into a calm walk along the fence. Peyote snorted below him, a huff of indignation at the thought of just walking anywhere. “Can’t get worn out right away, you know that. Calm and steady girl, then you can break free for the final stretch.” She shook her head a bit but she didn’t fight him. Soon he drifted into the silence surrounding them.

All his own troubles aside, he loved it here. Montana was spacious, beautiful, breathtaking…isolated, quiet, remote. The landscape didn’t fuck with his senses as much, very rarely sending him barreling down a path into his memories. He liked the isolation more than his siblings, enjoying time away from packed rooms and small talk. Small talk was the worst; he had to smile and try his best not to grimace instead, had to pretend he was listening and that the close proximity of strangers wasn’t making him feel like his chest was slowly being crushed by some invisible force. It was easy to be overwhelmed when there was always someone new at your back, always having to turn to watch it. Faith had caught on yesterday, flitting and landing at his side like a dove of peace to rescue him from himself. He made a note to try and hide it better, but he would probably never be able to hide it from her. _'Maybe that’s a godsend.’_ He snorted at the thought, but it did bring his mind around to Joseph again. 

Joseph couldn’t understand no matter how hard he tried, and he did try. Despite their arguments as kids, despite all the anger that could have kept them apart, when Joseph found him again…his voice had echoed through him, through a vacuum of loneliness he hadn’t known was there. Not that he would ever be able to find the words to explain this to his younger brother. Instead, he’d made the decision to work, to always be ready to protect and support. He had a lot of time he had to make up for, a lot of missed moments that started the day they were separated.

He must have tensed up because Peyote shook her head, giving a low groan he could feel rumble through her. “I’m right here.” He answered, focusing on the feeling of her muscles moving below him. He closed his eyes, tried to bring himself home. He was right on the edge, balancing on that razor’s edge he’d been trying to avoid. It took a single thing to fuck him up, a sound that resonated through the trees only under the most _unlucky_ of circumstances aligning. At least for it to echo this far.  
**  
_Gunshot._ He seized up and thankfully Peyote merely flickered her ears, though she did stop walking. He looked down, tried to focus on her—she knew he was scared. He shouldn’t be scared, he wasn’t the prey being hunted. _GUNSHOT._ He had to run, it was the only way. They were there, whatever _they_ were—the things that lingered at the edges of his nightmares, twisting tendrils threatening to drag him down, to devour him whole. His eyes darted across the land, barely recalling paths and trails, before he turned Peyote through the trees. Through the gate out—he remembered to lock up though his hands were shaking. Through the trees again, the trees meant shelter and even if it hid danger shelter was _always safer._ **_GUNSHOT._** That one was in his head, he knew it was because it was laced with screaming, but he picked up his pace regardless. He cast glances around him, behind him, almost swiveling out of the saddle once. He was still seeing Montana, he was still here, but the fear was back.

Eventually on the way, Peyote took the lead. She knew the rest of the way and he was thankful. Because he was running again, always running, from shadows—demons—as far as he could. As far as he knew. He tried to calm his breathing, but despite the steady rhythm they were strained and tight. He could recognize the trail now, all too familiar now. He ran here a lot, the first place he’d lived in Montana. That little cabin, secluded even more than their ranch. He knew it wasn’t their property now, but it still radiated warmth and kindness and safety. _And she was there._ No more words than needed, no stories pulled from him. 

As if thinking her somehow summoned her, he could just make out her silhouette on the horizon of his sight. He felt like he was looking just outside of his body, his perspective just slightly tilted and off kilter. He could see her talking, just make out his name falling from her lips and he smiled. Or he tried. As Peyote reached her, just at the steps of her cabin, she stopped and nickered at him again. He patted her neck, swung out of the saddle, and almost slid boneless to the ground. He took a second, braced himself, the held out the reins towards Calista. He remembered her name, he was coming back. She took them and he walked past her, into the cabin, and took a seat at one of the dining chairs. It put his back to a wall, allowed him to watch all the entrances there were and put him in a blind spot. He’d sat in this corner a lot when they lived there. It gave him an advantage.

He wrapped his arms around himself, as if physically trying to force himself back into his body. There was a word for this but it forever danced at the edges of his memory. He could remember jargon from the hospital, terms for everything he’d ever felt but he hadn’t been listening. He’d stopped caring about himself and didn’t bother learning but he wished he had. He tried to stop thinking, to focus on his heartbeat. He closed out the world, squeezing his eyes shut from the bright light of this reality, and focused on the sound of his blood pumping through his veins, the sound of his breathing expanding his lungs. He focused until it was all he could hear, the only mantra he’d ever need. 

And he let himself exist in that state for he didn’t know how long, fingers wrapped tightly around the opposite arm so tight he could feel the scars beneath them. He wasn’t sure when he’d stripped down to his undershirt but he couldn’t think about that. He had to think about the sensations around him, the tingling of his limbs as he regained control. When he was breathing evenly he let his senses expand, listening for sounds around him. He could hear birds chirping and singing at the edges of the room. It reminded him where he was, the agonized screaming gone now.  
**  
He cracked his eyes finally, letting the light filter through as he tried to look around him. It took longer than he’d expected to adjust, which indicated he’d been in that comforting darkness for somewhere between twenty minutes to an hour. Its never taken him longer to drift back into his skin. When the world drifted back into view he looked around; it was so different than when he had lived here with Joseph. It felt lived in now, as if its owner suited it. Maybe it did. He eyed candles and gemstones and books and charms scattered across every surface. Next to him on the table was a glass of tea, and he could see sweat beading off the edges of the glass. He reached for it after reluctantly releasing the grasp he’d had on himself and found his fingers felt numb. He flexed them for a minute, watching the digits twitch as he moved them all. When he felt the circulation flowing again and he reached for the glass once more.

Only after succeeding at not dropping it and managing to drink every bit did he even consider that it could have been poisoned. He could die, and right now he wouldn’t regret it because _God had he needed that._ A fluttering motion caught the edge of his peripheral and he turned to see Calista now. He could see her clearly and again he praised himself for floating back down. She brought him a plate, a sandwich with chips—simple, easy on the stomach—and when it touched the table in front of him he was on it. He didn’t speak, he didn’t have to. She had promised him he never had to say a word if he didn’t feel the need. And maybe right now wasn’t necessarily about him not feeling like it, but more that he couldn’t. But she was still there, still kind. And he could appreciate kindness when it sparked in this bitter world.

Only when he was finally seated back in his body, nestled back into some sort of security, did he bother trying to speak. Anything before now would have been garbled, worthless noise filling the air with wasted effort. He sought her form out, his blessedly silent friend, and when he located her smile he was quick to stutter back into to solemn quiet. He enjoyed her time, enjoyed her presence, but never in the same way. He found her intriguing, thoughtful, and maybe if he wasn’t wrapped up in himself and his routine, he would have pursued her more. As it was, they’d settled on a platonic companionship, one built on actions instead of words. But as of now she deserved an explanation for him barging into her territory like this.

Jacob started to speak and she held up her hand, a questioning look across her features. _Are you sure?_ He gave a short laugh, a nod, then forced the words from his throat. “Was gunshots earlier from someone hunting, echoes from a distance. I spaced out, let instinct guide me. Sorry about just showing up with no warning like that.” It started low, grumbled, and it felt like those words were hot coals instead of its usual gravel. Like he’d been screaming, and he didn’t know it. Had he been screaming, or was this from disuse? From not talking at all that entire ride, beyond one measly attempt at comfort to his horse. 

She moved now, over to where he was seated. He still had the faint urge to pull her as close to safety as he could, but there wasn’t room short of throwing the table out of the way and pushing her to the corner. To keep her safer than he was, to protect. And that weird niggling feeling in the bottom of his gut told him that that action would be misconstrued before he even had the chance to explain. But she sat down at the opposite chair, the only other safest point. Right, she knew to do that. “You never have to apologize. How are you feeling?” She asked, pushing her own back against the other wall. She was offering proximity without invading his space. Okay maybe he wasn’t as entirely here as he thought he’d been, soul still threatening to split from the body at the first sign of danger.

He remembered she asked a question, and he thought about it now. His heartbeat thudded through his brain, amplified by the attack. The light had dimmed around them, and he realized she’d drawn her curtains for him. “My head hurts.” When he turned his neck to look at her, he couldn’t stop the wince of pain. He lifted his arms, folding and unfolding them, watching his muscles move beneath his scars. Holy fuck did he hurt. “A little sore, now that I’m thinking about it.” Because all of his muscles had been wound up, coiled and ready to strike in unjustified defense. “But I’m here, so that’s a step in the right direction.”

“I regrettably don’t have any pain killers. I’ve got booze and weed, but I don’t know your lines.” She smiled, lifting her tone to a light teasing and it brought a laugh from him. No wonder John and her clicked, and he smiled at the comparison. He bet his little brother hadn’t realized how alike the two of them were.

Jacob knew the drill, knew the correct response was the one that felt natural. So he teased back, stiff muscles aching with quiet laughter. “So you’re the one that Faith gets weed from. Should’ve known. Witch in the middle of the damn woods.” She was giggling now too, and it made him grin wider as he finally stopped to take in deep breaths.

She reached over for his glass, probably to go refill it but he didn’t want her to leave and he quickly lifted his hand and seized hers. There was no stalling of breath, no moment of adjustment, and it just barely made his heart ache as she threaded their fingers together. “I’ll remind you that you used to live in the middle of the damn woods.” Calista replied now, doing everything she could to reflect her agreement to the silent plea. _‘I will stay.'_ Only when he got the confirmation did he release his grip, turning from her to look around the room.

“I did and I miss it.” And he did, in little ways. It was smaller, easier to defend. More windows meant you could see the property better from the inside, but it also meant more places you could be seen from which over time felt like the bigger negative. The ranch was larger, and it brought more work with it. And he picked throwing himself into action instead of feeding his paranoia. “Sometimes.” He added, before smirking a bit.

She laughed, and he turned to meet her green gaze. It always made him think of sunlight through the leaves, green and somehow glowing. A beacon in dark woods that were so easy to get lost in. “You’re invited to visit whenever you like. I honestly never changed the locks, so your key would still work.” She told him like it was a secret between them, a fact she might never have shared with anyone beyond maybe Faith before. “My home is your home.” The offer made him melt, let him relax the rest of the way. It was official, his runaway spot.

“Thank you.” He concluded the exchange, and she let it drop.

“Of course.” She responded, before he turned to look at her. Her eyes twinkled and he knew she had more she wanted to say. But she wouldn’t without his permission. He gave a sigh before he spoke again.

“I can see a question in your eyes. Ask it.”

She didn’t waste his time, she never did. “Does it happen often?” He flinched a bit at how quick she was to cut to the bone. _‘Has it happened and you haven’t told me?’_ Always caring, always concerned. He appreciated it because he forgot about himself sometimes.

All he had right now was honesty. “It’s gotten better since I came to Montana with Joseph. Gets a little better with each passing year. By the time Faith had joined us I stopped having full on flashbacks. Now the mountains and trees stay, its just the feelings. I don’t think they’re gone forever, but they’re gone for now I guess.” He offered a shrug, an easy gesture right now.

She smiled now, humming lowly. He focused on the sounded, honing in on the frequency with ease. _Safe._ “Progress is progress, no matter how small it may seem to you right now.” She responded, and it sounded cliché. She knew it did as she glanced down, embarrassed. But he knew it held some sort of truth to it. “Have you talked to someone about this?” She asked again, and again he shrugged.

“Some shrinks when I was dismissed from the army.” He remarked, uncomfortable with something he knew needed to be done but he’d been delaying. She kept staring at him though, looking past his words to his still exposed core. She didn’t mean doctors, she meant his family. “Oh, you mean…no. No not really.” He grumbled as he shifted a bit, gaze still locked on hers.

She nodded, accepting the answer. “You should.” A reminder, a friendly nudge.

“I know.” He admitted, sitting up again to make himself feel stronger.

“Soon?” A question, no orders laced into her tone at all.

He knew the answer, the one best for himself. He was off alone today, and luckily he got through it. “Tonight.” He had gained more control than he used to have, but someone should know in case he wandered off. Maybe they already had an idea.

She immediately tensed up, worried she’d crossed a line. “I’m not trying to push you too soon--” He lifted a hand, shaking his hand as he cut her off.

“I know, Calista.” Jacob assured her, doing his best to keep his tone level and even. Right now, it wasn’t for him but for her. “Callie, you never push. You’re good and kind, a welcome sight in a weary world. But I should have told them a long time ago. This is my choice.” He could feel the truth as he spoke, continuing on with dismissing the subject. This time she let him. “Oh and whatever magic you’re weaving with John keep it up. He was lit up like the fourth of July last night when he came back home, and it was all him. No drugs, no masks. It suits him.”

She gave a nervous laugh, waving her hand quickly. “There’s no magic there, not by my hand. Oh wait, that sounds bad.” He couldn’t stop from grinning at her, trying to deny the clear connection. He wondered why when she continued on. “Hmmm…I don’t do anything, I don’t have to. I can just exist with him, tell him anything.” That caught his attention.

He admittedly didn’t know a lot about her himself. She didn’t push him for details so he didn’t question her. She’d told him she’d lost her family, but she didn’t pry for details. But he’d told her about his episodes, but never what caused them. They were even, and yet… “Did you tell him?” The words were in the air, and he had to focus on her again.

She was quiet for a minute, watching him before she gave the smallest of nods. “I told him everything.” It was a confession, and he gave the briefest of laughs; a sound harsher than he meant but he shook his head.

“I’m a little jealous.” His own confession, making them even again.

“Of me or him?” She asked, the tone reminiscent of a joke.

“You’ll never know.” He replied, not really sure of the answer himself. “How long have I been here?” He really needed to get back home, maybe cook dinner for everyone else. In the house. Where he could play music and avoid the rest of the world.

“About an hour now.”

The admission made him jerk up out of his seat. It’d been on the long of the recovery stick this time. “Fuck. I gotta get home.” He looked around, finding his other shirt and his jacket being handed to him. He started to put them on, a grumbled statement of gratitude.

But she was hovering, following him once he started out the door. “You gonna be okay?” Her voice floated up from his side on the porch, and he stopped to look at her again.

He looked down at her with a steady gaze and nodded finally. “Yeah, of course. Peyote out back?” He questioned, motioning to where he knew the corral was.

“Yes she is, safe and secure.” Calista answered, still eyeing him carefully.

So he offered her a smile, and she seemed to relax a little more. “Thanks again. I’ll let you know when I get home.” He made the promise, knowing that’s what she was waiting on.

She gave a deep sigh before looking up at him again. “Alright, okay.” Quick as an arrow, she moved in and hugged him tightly. He patted her back, understanding the gesture. “Be safe.” _'I love you.’_

“I will.” He promised, daring to hug her tightly before letting her go and heading to the corral. _‘I love you too.’_ He answered with his heart, quickly retrieving his horse once more before heading home again.

There were no more gunshots, and he was thankful. Just the song of birds and wind through the leaves, that slowly faded out when he let Peyote finally run once they crossed the river. She knew where they were going, but he focused on the route regardless. He looped her around the property, to head down the drive. He’d have to rub her down, let her cool off. He slowed her when he could see the drive way, letting her slow to a walk. He could see the truck see, movement inside from here. Everyone was back quicker than he expected. He led Peyote to the barn and took his time with her while he composed his thoughts. 

He had to talk about his attacks. Panic attacks, they were panic attacks. Maybe nothing else now, but he needed to tell everyone. He told Joseph to tell his secret, maybe as the eldest if he tells his own he’ll set some kind of example. Encourage everyone else to come forward about themselves in some way. He worked at gathering his courage together. He let Peyote go back out into the paddock, briefly thinking he’d send Faith to put them up for the night. He walked slowly up the steps, across the porch, and through the door. He hung up his jacket, getting ready to head upstairs to shower when he was intercepted by Faith flitting at the edges of his vision like a manic butterfly.

“Jacob! You’re home already?” She called, dancing up to his stand in front of him. “I wasn’t expecting you so—” She started and stopped, eyes scanning over him after having picked up on something he was clearly failing to hide. “Are you okay?” When the question was asked, silence fell between the other two voices in the next room. He offered a shaky smile, nodding a bit. He moved past her, so he could tell everyone in one go, as she followed unquestionably behind him. She knew he was still tiptoeing the line of fear; except this time it was of rejection. He stopped moving when he found his brothers standing across from each other in the kitchen, already cooking. Talking like civilized humans, pretending they hadn’t been listening. He cleared his throat, and then stopped feigning ignorance and looked to him.

He ripped the words out, like ripping off a band aid. Quick and painless, no emotions attached. “I had a panic attack today. I ended up at Calista’s cabin. Think I’m gonna stay at the house for the rest of the evening.” He watched them all carefully as soon as he finished, eyes dancing between each of them. John was the first to move, nodding as if things had clicked for him suddenly. Some unspoken speculation proven correct. Joseph twitched occasionally, and he knew the younger was fighting his instincts to reach for him. He was surprised though when Faith moved in front of him, hands hovering in front of her in offering. He reached for them, pulling her into a hug and she clung tightly to him. He could feel sympathy dripping from her before he let her go. She withdrew slowly, before she floated just out of his reach. Right at the edge of his bubble.

There were no words, not yet. He didn’t offer any up either, still not entirely sure he wanted to explain more unless they specifically asked. He moved to go take a seat at the dining table, giving up on cleaning up for the moment. He didn’t have the energy to go up the stairs. A crossword book was offered to him, slid across the table slowly. He looked up to see Joseph just as he set a pencil down with it. “I’m always here for you, brother.” The words weren’t hiding anything, it was merely a promise he knew the other would keep. He grunted out a thanks, but before he could pick up the gift of appeasement John moved to the sink as he called Jacob’s name.

When he looked up again, the movement slow because he still ached, he was met with John at his side. He held a bundle of what looked like fur against his chest, and gestured for Jacob to give him his hands. He was guessing at this point, the rolling gesture of impatience a new one. He held out his hands and John settled the bundle into them. He quirked an eyebrow before John shrugged and stepped back. He felt stirring in the item he had yet to look at, and he froze briefly as he finally registered the brown and black puppy he’d just been given. German Shepherd it looked like. He scooted back, settling the sleeping pup on his lap as a soft smile spread across its face as it yawned. _‘Fuck, it’s cute.’_ It sat up a bit, and it opened its eyes to reveal a wild, burning amber—part wolf. He reached down and rubbed behind its ears and it laid back down.

“Oh hey, look at that. He just opened his eyes.” Faith informed him from his back where she was looking over his shoulder. He felt proud when he didn’t feel that jerk reaction to shield it. “What are you going to name him?”

Jacob looked away from the pup now, gaze glancing from each of them. “Me?”

John grinned widely, probably the one behind the plan they’d come together to form. “Well, of course. He’s yours.” He promised, before turning his attention to cooking again. Sparing him of the theatrics he so loved.

Jacob thought carefully, looking down at the puppy as it snuggled into him again. He wouldn’t be moving until he woke up again, he already knew it. “Lobo.” He responded as the world fell away again, this time as he considered a new routine around the little one he was holding. He could handle this, this involved animals. This involved himself, and it included improving himself. The motivation he needed to do just the thing he was fearing. “Thank you.” He’d said that phrase a lot today. 

He was glad with how it had ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And as an added promise, nothing bad will ever happen to Lobo. The dog shall forever be fine. :)


	9. Mesmerizingly Malicious

It’d been almost a month since John had pulled his family together to bring Jacob Lobo. His eldest brother had adapted his schedule almost immediately, displaying more affection and emotion than he could ever truly remember seeing from him. Most of it was directed to the puppy that went anywhere Jacob did. But that also meant Jacob couldn’t do as much in a day as he used to. He planned on the pup keeping him fairly tied to the house until he had figured out and made some sort of harness that he could ride in when on horseback, nestled against Jacob’s chest; his favorite place. In turn John had started to do more work around the ranch in place of Jacob, and even Joseph had picked up some of his chores. It was almost refreshing to learn the eldest trusted him as much as Joseph and Faith to ensure the maintenance of their homestead.

As it was, John had just finished up his chores for the day. He’d checked the property line, fed the cattle, finally repaired that leak in the barn roof, helped Faith till up some ground for a new row of vegetables in her garden, and repaired at least two generators—he was pretty sure. (He knew _planes_ but Jacob had tossed a manual at his head that morning so he was fairly confident he at least didn’t break them more.) Jacob had insisted the last task be completed before the day ends because there were storm clouds on the horizon, blowing towards them quickly. And if the storm were bad enough, they’d need them. He could feel anxiety bouncing through the house like electricity was in the air—as if the storm was already upon them.

He cleaned his boots before walking through the kitchen to head upstairs on autopilot. Tomorrow was Sunday and he hadn’t decided if he would attend church quite yet. Unlike the last few times he’d pondered it, he actually felt like he might be ready. But there was still his own insecurities coiled tight in his gut because he felt like if he went he’d be a fraud. He didn’t think he could ever feel what Joseph or Faith felt, that spark inside that came with true faith. He didn’t want to be a liar, or to accidentally tie himself to some built up persona he created to protect himself. He hadn’t yet, but to be fair he hadn’t done a lot of talking to strangers since he’d come to Montana. He tripped over a dining chair that was slightly askew and his subsequential yelp brought a deep rumbling laugh from the open view into the den. 

He jerked himself out of his thoughts to look up. He could see Jacob sitting at the couch, heels propped up on the coffee table with Lobo nestled against into his chest. The pup had moved so his head was resting on the large man’s shoulder. Jacob held him up with an arm crossed over his stomach. He had been working on a crossword but apparently he’d watched John just walk blindly into a chair. 

John’s eyes dropped back down to his brother’s feet on the low table and he let himself grin as he walked closer. “You heathen, you’re the one that puts their feet on the coffee table.”

The other responded without looking as he shut his book. “It’s a fucking table, and we don’t even eat off it. I’m putting my damn feet on it.” Jacob looked up at him again as he dropped the book on the object in question. He dropped his feet off of it before he finally grinned at the other. 

He clicked his tongue, making a show of shaking his head a bit as he made a face showing his distaste. “Dirt belongs outside Jacob. I wouldn’t complain if you’d just clean your shoes on the mat outside like a civilized human being.” He was joking now, but he’d clean that table spotless later.

“Dirt never hurt anyone, it ain’t gonna start now.” His older brother remarked, grin evening out to a playful smirk.

“Maybe it’s not the dirt, maybe it’s what’s in the dirt. You ever think of that?” He asked the other as he pulled his gaze away to look around the room, humming a bit to himself as he moved to look out the window at the oncoming storm. The darkness hidden in those climbing clouds made him feel like his heart was freezing over.

“You gonna start telling me the government has some kind of program where they go around and infect random patches of dirt?” The statement shook him from his imagined sense of foreboding, and he shook his head as his brother’s voice continued on. “Actually…maybe. Be a great way to dictate what people grow without actually showing themselves. Still not that likely, but…”

“Why is it always the government with you?” John asked, turning from the window. The other turned to met him head on again.

“Why is it when you drink, you talk about aliens?” Jacob asked, slowly cocking an eyebrow at him and he let himself laugh now.

“Changing the subject, got it. But just so we’re clear, aliens are far more plausible than the government having a dirt operation.” He defended himself and the other gave a bark of a laugh.

“Says you,” Was the counter argument added before they let a comfortable silence fall between them. He heard a squeak, and he turned to watch Lobo yawn and stretch out a bit before he dropped back down and nuzzled in closer, finally climbing up the rest of his owner’s chest to perch on his shoulder. The other adjusted a bit so the pup had more room before he cleared his throat quietly to look at John again. “So what’s got you walking into chairs?”

“Take a guess, dearest brother. I’m sure you can figure it out.” His tone was harsher than he meant, and he winced a little bit. But he didn’t retract anything as he watched the other size him up again. Trying to see if he was going to be met with anger again, and John gave a sheepish look in turn as he dropped his gaze away for a minute before making himself meet the others gaze head on again.

After a long moment, Jacob just gave him another grin. “I’m gonna say its ‘feelings’, because it does that to me too.”

He gave a short laugh, a sharp sound in the quiet of the house. “You do know me best. Now that they’re out in the open, I suppose we have to talk about them.” He ran a hand back through his hair, a nervous gesture of his. When he remembered his brother was watching him, he jerked his arm back down to his side.

“Fuck no. I’m just gonna tell you a story, and then I want you to take Lobo while I go check those generators. I’m sure they’re fine, but I have to be double sure for storms. I’ve seen the havoc storms bring, cleaned up after them. If you’re not prepared…” Jacob trailed off there, his eyes briefly fixing onto something John couldn’t see. His hand fell briefly to pet the pup perched on him lovingly before he floated back down and looked at John again. “Anyway, how about you go snag a couple of beers for us, before Faith and Joseph get back from checking the fence.”

He spun on his heel, moving to their fridge and grabbing the requested items. “So is this just between us?” He called, removing the caps before returning to the den to sit down on the other end of the couch after he passed his brother his own bottle.

“Sorta. I think Faith knows, cause she’s a damn sorceress when it comes to figuring people out. I’m sure you’ve noticed it, what with those lawyer instincts of yours. How she can just get under your skin, figure you out in a minute with a smile, a hope, and the blink of an eye?” Jacob explained himself as John turned to focus on the painting hung over the fireplace absently; it looked familiar. “But I never really confirmed it with Joseph, and if he suspected he’d never call it out.” He turned to his oldest brother, almost surprised by his words. “He’s clingy and he’s persistent, but if you tell him not to push he usually listens.”

“I’ve noticed. I think she has a harder time reading me though. You know, being a lawyer with fine instincts and a great smile. All you need in life is the right smile, and the right cards.” John confirmed the observation on their sister, for now ignoring Joseph as a topic. He wondered if it’d ever get easier to believe their brother wasn’t more than human.

“She does. But how about we move on to that story?” The other offered and John took the moment to nod enthusiastically before taking a swig from his own beer. 

“Yes, let’s. Please.” _Anything but Joseph right now._

His brother said the words quietly, his own confession. “I only flew to Georgia to see you once.”

“Yeah, I remember, I was there?” John laughed softly in good humor before he let himself turn to face the other to find himself looking into his brother’s matching eyes.

“But were you really?” He countered, and John remembered now that he had been—but under a heavy shroud of drugs. He felt immediately embarrassed before admitting the other had a point.

“Fair enough, shutting up.”

Jacob shook his head, a rare kind smile across his lips before he settled back into his own head to tell the story. “I only flew up once to see you because I was once part of the 82nd Airborne Division. Spent a lot of my life in planes, jumping from them and parachuting into chaos. Into war, into natural disaster zones. I was nervous when Joseph asked me to go, but I hadn’t seen you since you were two and covered in tubes…so I had to go. I had to go for myself, prove to my paranoia that you had survived. That getting us separated was worth it, even just a fraction, you know?” The question caught him off guard, and John nodded silently. Yeah, he could understand that. It’s why he’d written back to Joseph more when his “parents” died. He shook his head, drifting back out of his thoughts as Jacob finally gathered his own again.

“So I gathered myself up, packed a bag, and went with him. Got to the airport, and even though it was small, it was packed. I let Joseph handle the talking and just kept my back in a corner. Probably scared everyone else in that place too. Big man, scarred to fuck, standing in a corner just staring down anything that moved like a barely restrained guard dog on a thin chain?” His brother stopped to laugh, shaking his head a bit before taking a long pull from the bottle he held. “Got on the plane, got by the window because I had to see the ground coming when we landed. Everything was going fairly well until we hit turbulence. It’s a normal thing, you know that. But for me, it was like being dropped back down into the fray. I grabbed the chair, clutched it so tight I thought I’d break the plastic on there right off. Chest got tight, and I got dizzy. Just kept thinking any second we were gonna be told to jump into God knows what this time. Then it happened for the first time that I could actively remember in a long time. I slipped out of my body, just a fraction, so that I wasn’t in control anymore. There’s a word for it, but I don’t remember it…” He trailed off briefly, as if searching his memory before coming back up blank again. 

He knew the word, and immediately provided it. “Disassociation. Rehab not too long ago, so it’s still fresh in my mind.” 

“That’s the bitch, yeah. Thanks. Been bugging me for days.” Jacob remarked, pointing a finger at John before he pushed on. “Anyway, I didn’t sink back in ‘til we hit the ground in Georgia. And as much as that drained every bit of my energy, getting to see you brought it all back.” John felt glad the other didn’t comment on the fact that he’d been strung out and it’d probably been obvious. “But I couldn’t fly again, not that soon. I told Joseph, and he didn’t mind. Well I told him I wasn’t about to fly. I never said why, and I don’t rightly know if he noticed or not. But it didn’t matter, we just rode the bus back.” 

The end was abrupt, as was tradition for his older brother. He couldn’t help the laughter that rose up, but he did his best to swallow it down to explain. “That was anticlimactic.”

“Who said I was done?” Jacob argued past a grin, laughing quietly along with him.

“Were you?” John asked, a playful challenge in his tone.

“For the most part. But you didn’t let me get to the moral of the whole thing.” The eldest admitted, still grinning as he absently rubbed behind Lobo’s ears. “The point I was making was…I tried, found it wasn’t for me. And no one pushed me to do it again. The same’ll go for you and church. And if anyone does give you shit…I’ll pound them into the ground like a fence post, and you know I damn well can.”

He turned to eye his brother, still open to him. Again, he found himself mostly at a loss for words at the sage advice he was granted. “Thank you, Jacob.” 

“Not a problem, little brother. Now I ask you to take Lobo here.” The other answered, before moving himself into a standing position again. He pulled Lobo gently from him, stopping to press a kiss to the pup’s forehead before leaning over to pass him to John. “I’ll be back in a bit. If he wakes up before I get back, I only ask that you take him outside or else he’ll piss all over you and everything else. His bladder’s little.”

John laughed a bit as the other departed in quick strides out the door. The pup in question snuggled into him and he absently stroked his fur as he turned back to stare at the painting above the fireplace again. Thick strokes of paint were visible, making the landscape portrayed almost abstract. Mountains were painted in purples and blues tipped in whites, a deep green dotted along them indicated the trees along the base of the mountains. Plains of sweeping, swaying yellow stalks for the plains that broke up the forest around them. He figured out why it was familiar; he’d seen a similar style in Callie’s cabin. He smiled a little bit before the squirming on his chest caught his attention. The small sounds coming from Lobo had him standing up and heading instinctively from his spot on the couch. Like hell he was getting peed on. He headed outside now before setting him down on the grass. He kept a close eye on him, and Jacob rejoined him as Lobo finished up. His brother scooped up the pup, cooing soft praise at him before heading back into the house.

John opted to stay outside to smoke a cigarette. The storm on the horizon was crawling closer, thunder rumbling from it and lightning lighting up the dark clouds. They were definitely closer, and as he dropped his eyes from the clouds he could just make out his other two siblings riding closer on their pair of pale horses. Before he could call out to them, the radio at his hip that he’d forgotten about crackled to static-filled life and he couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face as he heard the voice it carried to his ears.

 _“Hey Seeds, y’all see those clouds coming?”_ Callie called out, and it lifted his heart. He moved to the railing of the porch, looking over it to watch the clouds and he could feel the humidity in the air now, as well as the buzzing of the electricity along the breeze carried to him. He hoped there was enough rain to douse the countryside, or there might be some wildfires eating at the land. He responded now, smile curling up again as he spoke.

“I sure do. Been watching them all day. Jacob’s been pacing the house like a wolf in a cage.” He kept his tone light, voice teasing as he answered. He rejoiced when her laughter returned over the airwaves. “They are getting closer, though.”

A soft sigh carried over as she ceased giggling. _“That’s what I was afraid of. How bad you think it’s gonna be? I know we had some rain maybe a month ago, but it wasn’t enough to do anything. And after this drought?”_ He could heard the worried tone in her voice, making its musical tune waver over the crackling of the radio. So he gave her an honest answer, an attempt to assuage her now apparent fears.

“I’m not rightly sure, Callie. I haven’t been through enough storms out here yet to be able to judge.”

She gave a low hum in return, a sound of consideration. When her voice came through again, he felt an ache when she didn’t say his name. _“Jacob? I know you’re lurking nearby somewhere.”_ She sang out to his brother, a calling sound of familiarity. _“You are the resident storm whisperer.”_

Jacob’s voice broke through now, gruff and immediate. _“Bad enough you should probably head this way. Don’t want you stranded in the woods with no communication or power. Plus that lightning might be enough to start fires, and fucking everything is tinder right now.”_ John turned his gaze to his other two siblings as they picked up their own pace, hurrying their horses to the barn. He could see the other two horses had been brought in already, probably when Jacob went to do his checks.

Callie’s voice broke through now, drawing his attention back to the radio. _“Guess that answers that. Let me pack up some stuff. I’ll head on over.”_

_“Absolutely can’t be driving that ATV when its about to drop buckets on us. It could flash flood, catch you at the river, or you could go off the trail. John, go get her. Take the truck, it’ll be faster and the roads are higher. Can’t get all the way there, but there’s a trail you can park near. Callie, meet him there.”_ The mention of his name drew him back to the radio, and he was already moving to retrieve the keys and answering before he realized it.

“Yes, brother dearest. As you command.” 

_“Shut the fuck up and get moving. The wind’s picking up and that storm is closer now than it was just five minutes ago.”_ John was in the truck and starting it when a crack of lightning lit the sky. Jacob paused for a minute, probably having seen it too, as thunder rumbled towards them. _“And be safe.”_

“When am I not?” He answered, before heading out, the air heavy with the storm. It felt almost cleansing, the rain they’d been hoping for and dreading at the same time. Marvelous, melodious, yet mesmerizingly malicious. Everything you could want and fear in a storm in their little county of Montana.


	10. Fever-dreams

John had turned on the radio but he could still hear the rumbling of the thunder. He couldn’t help that sense of wonder that overcame him with any rain that came around, but he could definitely understand the anxiety it could also bring. But he chose to focus on how it’d bring life to the ranch, make everything green and bustling with energy again. He followed the road, eyes scanning it carefully for errant wildlife. He almost missed his stop, but caught it when he saw Callie emerging from the treeline. He pulled off the road, closer to her waving form. She was dressed in reds again, her skirt billowing around her in the strong breeze.

As he climbed out to open her door for her, the skies finally let loose those buckets that his brother had been worried about. Over the hammering sound of the rain on the road he could hear her laughing as she bolted towards him. He helped her load her bags up, trying his best cover them with a tarp. When he was back in the driver’s seat, he was quick to turn on the heater and she was even quicker to scoot over and lean against him as he started the drive back. 

“Didn’t expect it to rain that quick.” She said quietly from his side, before she looked behind them into the bed of the truck. “Think my clothes got soaked before they even had a chance to be dry.”

He laughed a bit, the tightness in his chest surprising him. “That’s okay. You can just wear some of mine until we get them dry.” He was more worried about the storm than he thought. His family had infected him when he wasn’t paying attention, too busy being wrapped up in his own problems.

“Oh yeah? That’s very kind of you.” Her voice broke him from his thoughts, and he gave her a smile in gratitude he couldn’t express properly.

“Of course, my dear. What’s mine is yours.”

They slipped into silence, the music on the radio start-and-stop and distorted by the rain bouncing off the roof of the cab. He kept his eyes on the road, glad they were higher up than the normal trail to get to her cabin. Rain was already collecting in every available place that it could, the soil not having had a chance to suck it up greedily yet with this sudden upheaval of chaos. 

As they crossed over the bridge he couldn’t avoid, he could tell the river had risen already. He wondered how much higher it would get, before the radio he brought crackled again. Another distorted sound came through before Jacob broke the surface, his voice low and calm. _“Flash flood watch in affect. Drive slow, be careful…”_ He cut out briefly, and John eyed the water accusingly again as he slowed once they were on the other side. His brother came back through and his attention was grabbed by the radio immediately. _“…want y’all in one piece…”_

He wanted to reach for the radio, but he felt a sudden anxiety around removing his hands from the wheel. He eyed the radio on the dash, and briefly glanced over to his passenger. She must of read his mind because she reached for the radio with nimble fingers. “We’re past the bridge. Should be in the clear. Won’t be much longer.” She answered, her tone soothing and calm. He wondered how much of that was for him rather than the eldest brother. “Hey Joseph, pray with me.” He was almost shocked by her prompting, but he listened carefully as his other brother’s voice filled the cabin now.

 _“O God, our heavenly Father, whose glory fills the whole creation, and whose presence we find where we go.”_ It was distorted but no longer breaking up, just an elongating of tones and notes that made the words feel tangible. He grasped at them, as he heard her own voice start to echo the words with a whisper. _“Preserve those who travel; surround them with your loving care.”_ As they got closer to the house, the stronger the signal got. It gave him a subtle reassurance he hadn’t realized he’d needed. _“Protect them from every danger.”_ Callie’s voice was steady, and he honed in on that detail quickly. _“And bring them in safety to their journey’s end; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”_

She pressed the button to whisper her own amen at the end. “Thank you. Prayer spoken with friends often hold stronger ties.” He felt her hand on his leg, and he realized how tensed he’d become. He smiled a bit, letting himself begin to relax.

 _“Always, Miss Greene. Our Gods will always listen in times of need, even if it’s just troublesome weather. You will be back to safety soon, both of you.”_ As Joseph finished, he could just see the house. They were almost there, and he was anxious to get home. Another crack of lightning split the sky, and it struck somewhere nearby because the resonating crackle filling the air almost hurt his ears. Callie had fallen back into silence as she pressed into his side. He could feel her shivering despite the heater and he knew immediately she was probably going to be sick.

“Hey…sleep with me tonight?” He asked the question as they crossed the threshold, and he headed down the drive. He hoped she’d say yes, because they’d fallen into the habit of spending nights together as often as possible. They’d never crossed that final line, not yet, instead just worshipping each other at every turn and long talks twined so close together their heartbeats almost merged together as one.

She answered as he parked the truck, finally turning to face her. “I’d love to.” She leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and he smiled slowly. She’d agreed, of course she had. They were tied together somehow and though he hadn’t figured out that means yet, he would never turn it away. He craved her affection, though he wondered how much of that was twisted up in his psyche and how much of it was being forever comfortable beside her. He was thankful for that, but her shivering brought him back to reality quickly. 

He was quick to hop out of the truck and grab her bags from the back. They didn’t feel as wet as they could be, but they could dry them quickly. He moved around to help her out and lead her quickly through the house after leaving her bags with Faith to tend to them. He took her to his bathroom and instructed she shower and warm up while he got her some dry clothes; an old pair of sweatpants and a jersey he’d had forever. It was a deep maroon, worn and comfortable. He took them to her when he heard the water turn off.

When she was done, she stepped through and back into his room. He brought her into his arms as thunder shook the house again, and he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Let’s get something warm to eat, huh?”

Her gasp broke his concentration as she pushed herself back to look him over now. “What about you? You’re still soaking wet.” His eyes dropped down and he realized he was in fact still wearing his soaked clothes, having been so engrossed in worrying about her he hadn’t thought to change. Then it sunk in that the shivering he’d felt from her earlier had actually been him. Well fuck. “Oh John, you’re shivering. Now it’s your turn to take a shower. I’ll wait til you’re out to go back downstairs. Where’s some clean clothes for you…” She caught on quicker than him, moving to take action as she pushed him towards his own bathroom and the thought of a hot shower was the best idea he’d ever had. He heard her words and smiled at the warmth in them before he shut the door behind him and muffled her out of his headspace again. He almost felt lonely as he stood in the remaining heat from the shower she took before him.

It took a few fumbled attempts before he could remove his clothes and drop them to the floor. He hated the very idea of leaving him there but his limbs felt like lead and he couldn’t stop everything from vibrating around him. He turned the water on, and the steam that entered the room immediately helped him sink back into his skin enough to climb into the welcoming water and clean up the bare minimum. Mostly he just tried to focus on the feeling of energy returning to him. It wouldn’t last, but at least he could eat something. Then he hoped he could curl up under the blankets piled on his bed, with Callie twisted up with him.

He climbed out of the shower and found clothes on the counter beside the sink. He smiled sluggishly, realizing he hadn’t noticed her pop in to deposit them at all. He dried off, pulled on the sweater and the soft pajama pants before tripping out. He found her perched on the edge of his bed with Faith beside her, and as soon as her green gaze settled onto him she was floating across the room to pull him into her arms. He didn’t care if the world was watching them, he clung to her presence like it was life itself. When she pulled back just enough to lift her hands to his face, fingertips tracing through his beard as she held him still. He lifted his hands to take her wrists in his light grip, his gentle attempt to promise he was okay with a weak smile.

After a long second of her searching him for something, she smiled and leaned into kiss him gently. He really hoped he wasn’t sick or he’d just definitely gotten her sick. “Come on, baby, let’s get you something to eat.” She whispered softly and he smiled again, taking her hand as she released him.

“Fuck yes, please. Lead the way, my dear.” He agreed and he let her pull him gently along. Movement floating in his peripheral got him to turn his head, and he found Faith flitting along beside him with a grin plastered across her face. He was suddenly very aware of her presence and he squinted at her in challenge as she lifted a finger to her lips, shooshing him quietly before she leaned in and whispered to him.

“No worries big brother, your secret is safe with me.” As his sister spoke, Callie drifted away from him into the kitchen once they’d reached the bottom of the stairs. He lingered, feeling lost without her touch, before he turned to huff at Faith.

“It’s not a secret.”

Her face softened, all hint of any teasing leaving her expression as one of complete understanding took it’s place. “But you’ve hidden your softness for her so well, surely that means you didn’t plan to tell us yet.” She had been working hard to slowly unearth pieces of him, dusting them off like relics hidden in the sand, the archeological find of the century. “You like your secrets, no shame in that.” He couldn’t help but smile at her, some bond between them strengthening. 

“If I agree to talk to you later, will you just stop talking?” He asked, and she giggled lightly now as her demeanor lightened in an instant. He envied how she could do that so easily. “My head’s already spinning, I don’t need to be flustered on top of it.” He gave her truth now. He supposed he owed her that much.

“I promise.” She mimed zipping her lips shut and she twirled off when he grunted his own promise. He stopped to lean against the wall, closing his eyes to lapse into his own mind. He found a calm blackness, as he focus on his slow breathing and his steady heart beat. A hand on his arm got him to open his eyes and he found Callie before him again. He couldn’t stop the smile, leaning into her touch immediately. 

“I wasn’t aware we were a secret.” Her words brought an immediate panic to him, itching just beneath his skin. He felt the urge to defend himself as he searched her face. He was confused when he didn’t find her to be upset, a serene smile spread across her lips now.

“We’re not, I just haven’t made an attempt to talk to my siblings. Well not yet.” His explanation came from him slowly, unable to hold it back for long. He lifted a hand to cradle her cheek lightly, and she leaned into his touch easily—no hesitation to be seen.

She tilted her head, pressing a kiss to his thumb and his heart fluttered. “Well to be fair, neither have I. I’m selfish with my time with you.”

“Then we’re selfish together.” He grinned before he leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. He lingered in the tender moment, before pulling back to whisper a promise to her softly. ”I’d tell the world if you asked me to.”

She shook her head, moving to slip her arms around him again. “Tell it when you’re comfortable.” She mumbled the words against his skin where she was pressed against his throat. He hummed lowly in appreciation of the feeling, fingers tracing idle shapes along her lower back. “But I’m not hiding my affections for you.”

His breath caught in his throat at the very idea, and the voice that came from him sounded weak to his own ears. “Please don’t ever do that.” So breakable, fragile in that need for her affection that got him to latch onto her so easily.

“I won’t.” She promised, pressing a kiss to his thudding pulse and he felt calm wash over him again. She gave her word and he trusted it, because he hated how he felt when she was so far away from him but he was scared to let her know for fear she’d run from him. The same feeling that had him pushing away anyone who came too close to him away had him clinging to her like she’d float away and he’d lose her in the wreckage. “Come on, John. Let’s go eat.”

The rumble of thunder that swept over the house got him to dig his fingers into the back of the jersey she was wearing. She pressed in close to him as silence swept over the house in it’s wake. He let her pull back, slipping from his grasp only to take his hand again and he followed her like a lifeline; floating in another place, just outside of the atmosphere. He wasn’t sure if it was just the sick already settling into his bones, or if he was lost in memories that were just out of his reach. That happened a lot, but her fingers entwined between his felt like an anchor, holding him steady in the storm. His rocking soul thanked her.

Dinner went well, and the beef stew warmed his bones like Jacob had said it would. There were only kind words and calming tones uttered, and about halfway through he stopped being able to catch all of the words being said around him. The only constant he had was Callie’s returning touch, on his arm or his leg, eventually ending up with him leaning over against her trying to hold himself up. It wasn’t too much longer before his anchor in the swaying sea of the world around him tugged him gently up from his seat and toward the stairs. 

As he climbed them, following after her glowing form, he realized how angelic she seemed right now. He wondered if he had a fever, or if he could actually see her aura right now. It made him feel light to know she wanted to willingly lead him along this winding path, not scared to touch the tainted pitch black void he had become over time. He worried about corrupting her as she fussed at a bed—his bed, he realized—then he let her push him gently down onto it. He felt like he was lying in clouds as he sunk into them. Blankets were draped across him and he clutched them quickly to his now shivering form. 

The room fell into blessed darkness before the bed shifted. He would have felt panicked if some voice in him hadn’t whispered not to be afraid. He felt Callie press against his back and her earthy smell mingling with the smell of his shampoo and soap blanketed him in peace. He settled in against her, and it didn’t take him long to fall into a deep sleep. Tendrils wrapped around his limbs, pulling him slowly down into the comforting dark. He stayed there for a long time, cocooned in somber velvet at the bottom of this ocean and for the first time in a while he felt completely safe. He could hear a heartbeat, nestled up against his cheek and cradling his head, and that lullaby had been enough to soothe every crack and chip in his being.

After some time had passed, he realized the steady pulse was gone and he tried to open his eyes to look for it. Searing light pierced his eyes when he succeeded in his effort, and he hissed as he slammed them shut again and curled into himself once more. He gave up the chase, holding on to the promise he was given by some faceless being in the dark that he longed to find again. He slipped back into that place he’d been in before, only this time when he opened his eyes the light wasn’t blinding nor the void endlessly stretched before him. 

Everything was warm-glowing and breath taking, and he was standing before the river as it usually was. That spot he found, the one that spoke to him in a silent knowing. He wasted no time in walking towards that little island that split the lazy water to whatever had been calling to him in his dreams for some time now. He took a hesitant step from the shore to the water and it bent under his bare feet, giving way to hold his feet in a wobbly sort of way. He didn’t question it, as he walked across the water, never fully being touched by the lapping current. It bothered him, some longing of his calling to the water surrounding him but never reaching it; whatever barrier surrounded him, he wasn’t sure if it was a blessing just yet.

He reached the island and looked around it. The trees were blooming he noted, and he wondered why. It was the middle of summer and everything had been so dry and brittle from the drought. He reached up to skirt his fingers along one of the large white petals and he smiled now. He walked forward, weaving among the branches and trunks easily, instinct moving his body like a puppet as he continued his search for…something. He still wasn’t sure what it was he was looking for, but he knew he’d know it when he saw it. That everything would click into place as it needed to. 

He broke through the ring of trees to find a small clearing. In the middle was a small dip in the land, and rain water had collected in it. It filled the space with a clean smell that mingled with the heavy scent of the flowers surrounding him. As he stepped towards the water, needing to feel it, he realized he wasn’t alone anymore. He looked up to see a woman standing on the other side of the cleansing water, her form distorted by the glowing haze that surrounded her. Wings rested on her back, but they weren’t heavenly. They were thin and shimmering like a butterfly’s, changing from gold to green as the light shone through them. He couldn’t see her face, couldn’t make out her details, but he knew she was watching him. And that she was smiling. He lifted his hands to reach for her, and she mirrored him as he stepped forward and into the water.

He could feel it soaking through him, his soul trying to absorb it greedily, and he dropped to his knees in it. He felt hands on his face, and he looked up to watch her delicate smile soften for him from where she stood bent over him. He leaned into her touch, finding a reassurance in it that he craved, as he let her pull him gently against her form. He lifted his hands, sliding them up her bare back to cling tightly to her. After a long minute of breathing in the smell of soil and fresh water, the fragrant flowers were nothing compared to the smell of her skin. It was life itself; wild flowers in the breeze, the soil after a heavy rain, green things growing. She was Spring and Rebirth, and she could give him what he hadn’t realized he’d been looking for; a cleansing of his soul, she could wash away all of his past transgressions.

He never had to form the words, she simply rested a hand on the back of his neck and leaned him back, pressing him just beneath the crystal clear surface. This time he could feel the water cover every inch of his exposed form, and when she pulled him back up he felt renewed energy buzzing along his nerves pleasantly. He smiled when she leaned in and pressed a soft blessing into his mouth that he happily swallowed down before she pulled away. He watched her dissipate before him, scattering into glittering bits of light before the wind carried them away, and he was surprised when he didn’t feel the stinging sensation of loss start to fill him. Instead he leaned back and closed his eyes, sinking into the comforting feeling that filled every inch of him.

He woke again to a low humming mingling with the heart beat he’d clung to before. He smiled as he opened his eyes, tilting his head up from where he was pressed against Callie’s chest to watch her sleeping face in the muted glow of daylight outside. He realized his arms were wrapped around her waist, and he had almost climbed her propped up form in his sleep, nestled between her legs and her arms over his shoulders and rubbing his back in gentle circles in her sleep. How long had he been asleep? He pulled from her grasp gently, but the movement was enough for her eyes to dart open and she pulled him back in against her as she ran her fingers over his face and along his jawline before she pulled him into a desperate kiss.

He was laughing breathlessly when she pulled away, smiling at her calmly. “Good morning to you too.” She let him sit up now, following him to the edge of the bed. He looked out his window and he could see it was still raining, and he turned to look at her again. “You’re hovering…was I out long?”

She crawled over and he scooted back as he helped her climb into his lap. She pressed her face in against his neck, hands sliding up his bare chest and he realized at some point he’d stripped the sweater off. “A couple days, yeah.” She murmured against his neck and he swallowed slowly at the sensation. His fingers snake their way up the back of her shirt, tracing slow trails along her warm skin. “Well, you woke up and mumbled things quietly but you weren’t really seeing the world.” 

He took in the info, trying to process it beyond the feeling of her breath against his pulse. He looked to the window, catching the grey skies and the water dotting the glass. “Huh. And it’s still raining?” He ignored the fact that he’d been out for so long in favor of talking about anything other than himself at the moment.

Her hand lifted, pushing its way through the back of his hair and he hummed lowly in appreciation, gaining a smile from her. “Yeah, but it’s evened out into something steady now. There’s been some flooding, and it might get worse if it keeps up.”

He caught the brief note of concern, and he led her up gently to meet his eyes. “It’ll pass soon.” The words felt true, some sense inside him meant to banish both their fear.

“What makes you say that?” Her voice told him she believed him, leaning in so she was a whisper away from his lips.

“Its just a feeling.” John whispered the words for just her, and he leaned in to kiss her again. It started slow, meant to calm her but it soon became heated as he realized he had missed her on his journey. He pulled her tightly against him, loving the way she fit against him perfectly. And when his fingers gripped at her hips and pulled a moan from her lips he almost dove into her, but his stomach erupted in hungry protest and they dissolved into a fit of laughter. “I’m fucking starving.”

“Well of course. Think you can walk?” Callie asked, pulling away from him finally but still lingering within his reach. 

He pushed off the bed, standing up on weak but steady legs and he gave into a yawn, stretching his arms over his head in the process. “I just got the best sleep in years. I think I’ll be okay.” He took a few shaky steps, intending to pull a shirt from a drawer before stepping out, but she beat him to it. She opened the drawer he was reaching for and retracted a deep blue shirt from it. He pulled it on, looking to her with his best thankful expression.

She watched him with kindness, though he could see the warning in her eye before she spoke it. “I’ll warn you now that you’re going to enter a room full of hummingbirds.” He tried to imagine them, all three of his siblings flitting around the room with that manic energy they were so easy to succumb to. It made him grin, and he leaned over to press another kiss to her lips.

“I know. But they’re my family.” He told her, and she simply smiled before she opened the door for him. She attached herself to his arm and he didn’t push her away. Instead he pulled her closer, kissing her freely as they descended the stairs towards the kitchen. When he walked through, he was immediately aware of eyes on him. He was met with Jacob first, the elder striding over quickly to pull him into a hug. Callie slipped away, and John chose the hug the other back when he didn’t feel the sudden loss of her touch.

“I fucking told you to be safe, not get your damn self sick.” Jacob grumbled lowly to him and John laughed as he patted the other’s back calmly.

“Yeah, well I’m still standing. You’ve gotta stop doubting me brother, I’m not going anywhere.” He made the promise casually, and Jacob pushed him back to look at him with serious eyes.

“Better not. I just got you back. I’m not going to lose you again, you hear?” He couldn’t think of anything to say, instead he just nodded quietly. Joseph and Faith both floated over to him from each side as Jacob stepped back, letting them take his place. He surprised both of them by pulling them into a group hug. 

“I missed you too. I have so much to tell you.” John whispered quietly to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr is narcis-the-monk.tumblr.com. Feel free to come and talk! :D


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